To the End of the Human Race
by Treymane
Summary: On her way to Noveria, Adrienne Shepherd comes across a ragtag fleet of unidentified ships that have been hounded by pursuers who now threaten all of Citadel space.
1. Chapter 1

Just to make sure there's no confusion on this point this is a crossover with the reimagined _Battlestar Galactica,_ not the original.

**With respect to Mass Effect, this fic takes place after Feros and Knossos (Liara's Dig Site) but before Noveria and Virmire. With respect to Battlestar Galactica, this takes place between the Season 2 episodes "Home, Part II" and "Flight of the Phoenix," so between 93 and 105 days after the destruction of the colonies according to a timeline I was able to find.**

**And, if you were wondering: femshepearthbornwarhero**

* * *

The war room of the _Galactica_ was much like any other room on the ship. Cut and dry, with stark grey walls and dim lighting, the room served a clear purpose and was devoid of any kind of ornamentation. The long, lighted table, often used by the _Galctica's_ command for planning missions, was now covered with star charts.

Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies, the remnant of them at any rate, stood to the side, arms crossed, while the officers argued which path would get them to the Lagoon Nebula the fastest.

Specifically, Colonel Saul Tigh, _Galactica's_ XO and a mean drunk, and Lieutenant Felix Gaeta, the ship's "jack of all trades," an expert on everything even remotely related to the operation of the _Galactica,_ were arguing while Commander William Adama, the _Galactica's_ captain, listened.

As they argued, Colonel Tigh's eyes narrowed to slits and his rantings degenerated into an incomprehensible murmur. Lieutenant Gaeta however, was intelligibly pressing his argument, and it was clear he had already won, although the blustering colonel was hardly willing to admit it.

_He probably needs his afternoon fix, _thought Laura. _Then again, maybe that's not fair. So far as I know he hasn't been visibly intoxicated for over a week._

"We'll take the detour," said Commander Adama with his quiet, deliberate tone.

The other two officers shut up immediately. So far as President Roslin knew, Commander Adama was the only person in the fleet able to quiet the colonel so quickly. "Tell us more about the system, lieutenant."

"Yes, sir," said Lieutenant Gaeta, pulling forward one of the maps, this one detailing a single star system rather than clusters of stars.

In many ways, thought Roslin, Lieutenant Gaeta was the opposite of Colonel Tigh. While the colonel was often disheveled in appearance and coarse in manner, the lieutenant embodied professionalism and calm.

"The third planet is the one we're interested in. From what I can tell, there are significant water vapor deposits in the upper atmosphere, enough to last us for thirty years, barring sabotage."

Roslin nodded. The likelihood of sabotage was one that could never fully be ruled out. Humanoid Cylons, or skin-jobs, as people had often taken to calling them, were virtually indistinguishable from humans.

"A gas giant? That's frakkin' great, how are going to collect the vapor?" asked Colonel Tigh derisively.

"There are a number of ships in the fleet that can gather the vapor and condense it," Gaeta replied evenly.

"Then it's settled," said the colonel, throwing his arms out, apparently eager for the discussion to be done with.

"Saul," Commander Adama addressed his XO, "tell Lieutenant Edmondson to prep a raptor to recon the area. Lieutenant Gaeta, start the calculations for the FTL jump and get them to Edmondson as soon as you can. The sooner we're underway the better. Dismissed."

"Oh, and Saul," the commander interrupted his XO as he was almost to the door, "tell my son to double the number of alert vipers."

The colonel nodded and made a gruff noise before disappearing through the door.

"I assume you're going to let me get back to Colonial One before we jump?" asked Roslin.

"Yes," said Adama. "A raptor will be waiting to take you back to your ship."

The commander was glancing down at the maps again, his back to the President. Relations were still tense between Adama and Roslin. All too recently, Roslin had defied Adama, splitting the fleet in two, even turning the commander's own son, Lee, against him. But, in the end, Roslin and Adama working together had found a sort of roadmap to Earth. They knew to head in the direction of the Lagoon Nebula.

It wasn't much, but it was a start. And now, the possibility that Earth was not a myth was becoming more accepted among the fleet. The hope of finding a refuge, an end to the constant running, now seemed in reach.

"How long do you think this will delay us?" asked Laura, her mouth a tight line.

"A few days," said Adama, still not looking up from the maps, "is that everything, madam president?"

"If you didn't intend to ask for my input then why did you ask me to come?"

This time the commander did look up, "I believe it's important that the president know where her fleet is going, and why."

_My fleet? That's an interesting admission._

"Besides, if you have any objections to the course. I would rather know now than later."

The president gave her reserved smile, "Thank you, Bill, but I think we can spare a few days, especially to top off our water supply. We never know when we're going to come across the next resource deposit. Besides, it's been weeks since the last Cylon attack."

"Just one more reason to be cautious," said the commander.

* * *

On the _Normandy_, Commander Adrienne Shepard was discussing the ship's course with Lieutenant Commander Pressly, her XO and ship's navigator.

Currently, the _Normandy_ was in the Knossos system, having just rescued Liara, the asari scientist who was supposed to have some kind of insight as to Saren's goals. Unfortunately, Liara knew even less than Shepard, but the mere fact that Saren's Geth were hunting her in large numbers meant he considered her to be a threat. That had been enough to convince Adrienne to keep the asari around, hoping she would prove able to pull her own weight.

But the trip to Argos Rho had left the _Normandy_ several relays away from Noveria, the final lead Shepard had. In order to ensure the crew wasn't just twiddling its thumbs during the trip, Shepard had decided to take a few detours.

"What about Argos Rho?" asked Shepard, "Any reports of unusual activity over there?"

"There has been a Geth sighting reported in the Hydra System," replied the grizzled XO, "A freighter captain claimed to see one of their ships when he was looking for a place to discharge his core. He bugged out before they could engage. But, if we go to Argos Rho, it will take one more relay to get to Noveria; add a few more hours to the trip."

As the navigator spoke, a sharp pain struck Adrienne and her vision blurred. The commander blinked and rubbed her temple. Her sight quickly returned but the headache was still there. That painful throbbing and the distinct feeling that her skull was several sizes too small.

"Commander?" the XO had inclined his head forward, furrowed his brow.

"Plot the course through Argos Rho." Adrienne quickly replied, "I need–I'm going to get some sleep."

"The headaches again?"

"Yeah." _Ever since that asari on Feros . . ._

"You may want to talk with Dr. Chakwas about those."

Adrienne waved a dismissive hand, "All she can do is give me pills. This ship does not need an intoxicated captain."

"Much less the galaxy."

Adrienne rolled her eyes, "Thanks for taking the pressure off."

"Any time, ma'am."

"You have the conn, Pressly, don't make me regret it."

* * *

Adrienne was glad to get back to her quarters. They were, she knew, the only true private accommodations on the ship. Having a head to oneself was something worth killing for on a ship this size. Shepard crossed the short distance to her bed and laid down, letting herself sink slightly into the military-grade mattress she had gotten used to.

That was when her headache struck again and the commander jolted upright, gritting her teeth, cursing under her breath and clenching her fists. _This cipher had better be worth it,_ she thought.

The asari had called it the life experience of an entire people. Adrienne had thought it might give her some of the Prothean knowledge and wisdom, instead it had given her an unrelenting headache and a chipped tooth from the near-constant grinding she had been doing.

'This had better be worth it.' Those words summed up her mission so far. After all of the firefights and near misses she had been through all she had to show for it were things that _might_ pay off in the long run while her leads evaporated and Ambassador Udina's blood pressure erupted, evidenced in the dozens of angry text transmissions he had sent to Shepard, many of them at very odd hours.

_Stop thinking about Udina dammit. He's the last thing that'll get rid of this headache._

Captain Anderson, at least, remained supportive.

Adrienne laid back down as the worst of her headache subsided, eager to fall asleep before it could return. Some days it was worse than others. Maybe tomorrow would be a good day.

* * *

"Commander? Are you there commander?" the chiding voice coming over the intercom could only belong to Joker.

What Shepard wanted to say was 'Shut the hell up, Joker.' What actually came out was little more than a wordless murmur as Shepard awoke from a dreamless sleep. The kind that made one feel cheated out of rest.

"What was that, commander?"

"What do you want?" Adrienne finally managed.

"XO says there's something in the Hydra system that you should see."

"Fine, I'll be there in a minute."

* * *

When she entered the CIC, Commander Shepard saw that all of the crew were intent on their stations, and that Pressly and Alenko stood by the main console. The holographic projector, which usually displayed the galaxy map, was now keyed to the local solar system. Shepard recognized the arrangement of planets as the Hydra system and saw that the blue arrow, representing the Normandy, was at the edge of the system while dozens of yellow arrows, representing unidentified ships, were clustered around the third planet of the system.

"What's the situation, XO?" Shepard asked as she approached Pressly.

"Sensors are detecting more than seventy vessels. None of them are known configurations."

"Have they detected us?"

"I had the stealth systems activated as soon as we detected the fleet. If they saw us, they haven't sent anyone to look for us."

"What can you tell me about the fleet?"

"Dozens of ships that seem to be civilian designs, no detectable weapons, a wing of fighters patrolling the area, and one dreadnought-sized vessel."

"Are we close enough for ladar?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Show me the dreadnought."

The system map disappeared and a new hologram slowly formed as lasers were reflected off the query ship's hull. Although the final image was still incomplete, ladar could only reconstruct the side of the ship facing the Normandy, what was there looked little like any ship Adrienne had seen. Most ships were designed similarly to birds or insects, even human and turian cruisers, which were unable to enter atmospheres. If the ship she saw now resembled any animal, it would have to be a whale.

The vessel was massive and grey, clearly not designed with aesthetics in mind. Two massive pods, probably used as landing areas for fighters and other support craft, extended from the sides, which bristled with gun turrets.

"Look at the scarring on the side of that thing," remarked Gunnery Chief Williams, who, up until now, had been standing to the side, "It's been through some real fights."

"It's definitely not Geth," said Shepard.

"This is strange," said Alenko, "I'm not detecting any kinetic barriers. And about that scarring, I'm detecting trace amounts of nuclear radiation. Commander, I think this ship was hit by a nuclear weapon."

"You're right about the shields," confirmed the XO, "but it's armed to the teeth. Three dozen coaxial gun batteries and another dozen missile tubes. Who the hell would arm a ship like that and not shield it?"

"It could be an older ship," suggested Alenko.

"Anyone who could afford to keep a ship that size could afford to get it refitted," said the XO, matter-of-factly.

"This isn't right," said Shepard under her breath, "get Tali and the others up here. I want to see if they can recognize this thing."

Kaidan made the announcement over the intercom: "All guest species, please report to CIC, all guest species, please report to CIC."

Pressly and Williams looked at Alenko with raised eyebrows. A moment later: "Guest species?"

"Well, what am I supposed to call them?"

"Aliens?" suggested Williams.

"Goddammit Williams," muttered Adrienne, "I am going to get you to be diplomatic if–"

Shepard stopped short when the stair door opened sooner than she expected it would.

Liara, the asari scientist, was the first to step through, "Is something wr–what is that?"

"We were hoping you might know," said Ashley dryly.

Liara stepped closer to the hologram to get a better look, eyes wide with curiosity, "I've never seen anything like it. It looks dreadful though. So dark . . ."

Again the doors opened, this time admitting the other 'guest species:' Garrus, a turian and former C-Sec officer, Tali, a quarian on her pilgrimage, and finally Urdnot Wrex, the hulking krogan bounty hunter. All of these people had one thing in common: an ardent desire to see Saren brought to justice.

While the others immediately took notice of the hologram, the krogan headed straight for Alenko and pointed his finger at the lieutenant's face, "Never call me a guest species again."

Meanwhile Garrus failed to raise the hopes of the Alliance officers when he immediately asked the same question Liara had asked, and received the same response.

"Tali," started Shepard, "I know the flotilla uses a lot of different configurations. Do you recognize this one? Could it be in the flotilla?"

Tali shook her head, "I admit that I do not know all of the designs used in the flotilla but, if there were a ship this massive, I would know about it."

Finished with threatening the lieutenant for the moment, Wrex regarded the holograph for the first time, "Now that is what a warship ought to look like. No flashy lights or pretty colors. Just armor and guns."

"I happen to like my flashy lights, thank you very much," Joker interjected over the intercom.

"But you don't know what it is either?" asked Shepard.

"Nope."

"In that case," said Garrus, "we may have a first contact situation. Commander, this is a unique opportunity."

"Wait, you want to just drop the stealth and say hi?" interrupted Ashley, "We have no idea if these people are friendly or not. They could blast us to pieces!"

"And if you fail to make contact, this heavily armed vessel may wander into a densely populated system. Imagine the damage that could result from a misunderstanding. If we make contact now, we can at least assess what threat they pose. And if they do attack, the _Normandy_ is fast enough to effect an escape."

"Joker," Shepard addressed the pilot over the intercom.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Disengage the stealth systems and approach the fleet. Lieutenant Alenko, begin transmitting our greeting."

"What should I say?" asked Alenko, putting on a headset.

"Something suitable. XO, please return the projection to the system display."

* * *

"New DRADIS contact," shouted Lieutenant Gaeta.

"What?" snapped Colonel Tigh as he glared at the new contact on the DRADIS monitor, which was rapidly approaching the fleet, "What the hell is it?"

When Lieutenant Gaeta didn't respond Tigh turned to face him, "Well?"

"Transponder signals don't match anything in our files, Cylon or Colonial. If it's Cylon, it's too small to be a basestar, too big to be a heavy raider."

"Sound action stations, instruct the fleet to prepare for emergency jump," ordered the colonel. A moment later, klaxons sounded the call to action stations while Petty Officer Dualla passed on Colonel Tigh's instructions.

_Where the hell is the old man? _wondered Saul.

"Colonel," Tigh turned toward Petty Officer Dualla, "The ships gathering water will need twenty minutes to safely disengage."

"Frakking ass draggers," muttered Tigh, "tell them to hurry it up. Bring us between that ship and the gatherers. Tell the vipers on CAP to intercept and tell the CAG to get every bird out there."

"Sitrep."

Colonel Tigh turned to see that Commander Adama had arrived. "We have one unidentified contact on DRADIS. Vipers are intercepting and the fleet has been instructed to standby for emergency jump."

Adama looked at the DRADIS monitor, saw the rapidly approaching contact.

"Commander," the two senior officers turned toward Petty Officer Dualla, "I'm getting a transmission from the unidentified ship."

"Put it over the speakers," said Commander Adama.

"This is the _SSV Normandy _of the Systems Alliance to unidentified vessels. We have no hostile intentions but request that you identify yourselves and your purpose in this system immediately."

"Systems Alliance?" said Colonel Tigh, "is this some Cylon trick?"

While Saul remained cynical, everyone else in the CIC felt a mixture of hope and dread.

"Put it through to my console," said Adama. The commander paused before picking up the bulky phone. _Could this be a ship from the thirteenth colony, from Earth?_ "This is Commander Adama of the _Galactica, _BSG-75, Colonial Fleet. _SSV Normandy,_ please identify your place of origin."

In the _Normandy_ CIC, Lieutenant Alenko made a puzzled expression before responding, "Earth."

Adama let out a sigh of relief, but was still wary of a Cylon trap, "We have been looking for you," Adama finally said, "I would, I would like to meet with you personally." Adama covered the phone before speaking to Lieutenant Gaeta, "Is there enough room in the landing pod for that ship?" After looking down to his console, the lieutenant nodded. "I request that you land in our starboard landing pod."

* * *

On the Normandy, Alenko turned to Shepard, "They want us to land in their ship."

"Well that's moving a little fast," commented Ashley.

"Will we fit in there?" asked Shepard.

"It'd be a tight squeeze," replied Pressly, "but we can do it."

"I think that's a bad idea," said Ashley.

"Why?" asked Wrex, "if something goes wrong we can always shoot our way out."

"Tell them we'll come," said Shepard, "And send a message to Admiral Hackett. I'm sure he'll want to know about this."

"Where are you going, commander?" asked Kaidan.

"To put on a better looking uniform, tell Joker to take us in slow."

* * *

Commander Adama set the phone back on its reciever, and put on one of his rare smiles.

"Well?" asked Colonel Tigh.

"I think we've found them, Saul," said Adama, "I think we've found Earth."

"Well I'll be damned," muttered the Colonel, "and just two weeks ago I was certain it was a myth."

"Me too," said Adama before he turned to Petty Officer Dualla, "Set condition three throughout the fleet. Send a message to Colonial One, request that the President come aboard immediately."

* * *

Nevius was the disgruntled crew chief on the _Stafford,_ a salvage ship operating in the Argos Rho Cluster. Specifically, the Turian was dismayed by the absence of any sort of work ethic on the part of the majority of his human crewmates.

At the moment, the Turian and two of the human deckhands, Jens and Byron, were taking a break. The salvage on the planet below was still in progress, and until it arrived on the ship, there was nothing for the three to do except wait and stuff their faces with whatever they could find in the galley.

Until the general quarters alarm sounded that was.

The two crewmen didn't bother to immediately jump out of their seats. Feeling that if Gervaise, the _Stafford's_ captain and owner, only paid them a semi-decent wage they only had to be semi-professional.

"Think it's another drill?" asked Byron.

"Probably," replied Jens.

Nevius listened to the two talk for a few moments longer. His rage at their laziness building. Soon it was too much.

"Get to the bridge before I toss both of you out the airlock myself!" the Turian shouted.

Jens was out of his seat and through the door immediately. Byron took a moment longer to grab another bite but when Nevius started toward him he fled as well.

Nevius shook his head. Soon after Captain Gervaise had hired him as crew chief a rumor started among the crew that the turian was ex-military, and was discharged for employing harsh disciplinary measures. It was a rumor the captain and Nevius tried to encourage. Overall, productivity had gone up.

When the three arrived on the bridge, they found the other three crewmen who were still on the ship, Captain Gervaise as well as the pilot John and systems officer Natale, all humans. The rest of the crew were on the planet's surface, still working on the salvage.

Jens always wondered why he and Byron had to come to the bridge whenever they sounded general quarters, neither of them knew anything about how to run the ship. All they were good for was loading, unloading and assessing salvage.

"Well, is it an Alliance ship?" asked the Captain.

"No," replied Natale.

"Then it's either a scavenger or privateer. Fire a warning shot, that should scare them off."

A moment later: "It's still coming."

"Maybe we should bug out," suggested the pilot.

"And leave all that salvage? Hell no!"

_No mention about the people on the ground,_ thought Jens, _I need to find another job._

"It's on an intercept course."

"We gave them their warning shot, open fire, bring it down."

Nevius shoved Jens out of the way and stepped forward to get a better view of the sensor display, knowing that by the time he could see anything out of the window it would already be too late. Despite a direct hit from the _Stafford's _gun it was still moving.

"It must be armored, our shots are just—wait, it's returning fire." An impact shook the Stafford as all of the monitors and lights on the bridge suddenly went black. Natale stared at her empty screen, dumbfounded. A few seconds later emergency lights slowly flickered on.

"What the hell is going on?" asked the captain.

For lack of a better idea, John hit the side of his console.

"They must have hit a power relay," murmured Natale. Then: "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" responded the captain.

"Exactly. The power core's offline. Without it we have no shields, no life support, and no power to the engines."

"Then our orbit will decay and we'll crash into the planet," said the pilot.

"Can you fix it?" asked the captain.

"I need to assess the damage," said Natale, "if it's just a severed connection between the power core and the generator I can fix it. But if either one of them is severely damaged . . ."

"Alright, Natale, go to the core and figure out what the hell's wrong with it. Take Nevius and the flunkies with you."

"Hey–"

"Captain," Nevius interrupted Byron, "we should open up the small arms locker, in case they try to board us."

"Good idea, do it."

Natale and the flunkies followed Nevius into the room adjacent the bridge. Nevius and the captain were the only ones on the ship with keys to the small arms locker.

"I've never used a weapon before," said Natale when she was handed an assault rifle.

"It's easy," said Byron, "just point and pull the trigger."

The four were heading to the rear of the ship when a metallic clang caused the entire hull to vibrate.

"It's docking with us," said Nevius, and he turned toward Byron, "warn the captain, go now!"

The crewman needed no more incentive to run away from the sound of the entry.

With his rifle couched against his shoulder, Nevius started forward with precise steps. Jens and Natale shared a worried glance before following a few steps behind, more afraid of what Nevius would do to them if they tried to run than of whoever had boarded their ship. Soon they arrived at a corridor with a few crates that ended in a bulkhead, lit only by red flashing emergency lights.

Nevius dashed toward the door and put his ear up against it, heard movement on the other side.

"Take cover," said the turian, "they're coming."

Nevius took cover behind a crate far from the door and the others nervously followed his lead. Natale was clearly shaking and Jens wiped the sweat of fear from his brow.

The bulkhead door opened, from the darkness of the other side, Nevius could only see a red light, sweeping back and forth. He didn't wait to see the full form before opening fire. Sparks flew as Nevius' volley destroyed some sort of machine.

_Too tall to be a drone, thought Nevius, could it be some sort of Geth?_

Then an armored, humanoid figure ducked in order to step through the door and stood at its full height once it reached the other side, at least seven feet tall and covered in gleaming metal plates. It only had a single red eye. Long, skeletal fingers extended from its arms.

_It certainly isn't Geth, _thought Nevius.

Nevius stood paralyzed as the colossal machine bolted toward him. Leaping over crates with surprising agility, the thing seized him with a skeletal hand and threw him to the ground, knocking the breath out of him.

When Nevius tried to stand a metal foot slammed down on his chest. Then he heard the clattering of assault rifles falling on the metal floor followed by rapid footsteps. Jens and Natale running, he supposed.

Nevius started to hear a conversation. Whoever was speaking, they were getting closer.

First Nevius heard the man's voice: "–must have gotten separated from the rest of the fleet. There's no way a lone ship could have gotten this far without _Galactica's_ help."

Then the woman's voice: "You forget that God has his own designs. He may have safely seen this ship here for a purpose."

"Ah, of course. That would make perfect sense."

"You should know better than to mock God's will. We _will_ find something here."

Two humans stepped through the bulkhead door and into Nevius' sight: a short, brown-haired man and a taller, blond-haired woman.

Both of them looked down at Nevius, the man with a hint of disgust, the woman with open curiosity.

"What is that?" asked the man.

"What we were meant to find," the woman confidently replied.


	2. Chapter 2

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* * *

Once the _Normandy _had landed, the flight pod retracted and pressurized.

Adrienne stood in the cargo hold, along with Lieutenant Commander Pressley, Gunnery Chief Williams, and Corporal Otieno, a dark-skinned, bleach-blonde marine. The other three marines assigned to the _Normandy _stood further back in the hold, waiting in case something went wrong. Lieutenant Alenko had the conn. All of the marines were decked out in the latest Hydra type heavy body armor and carried assault rifles of the same grade. The senior officers only carried sidearms and wore their dress uniforms.

Adrienne scratched at her neck. "I forgot how damned itchy these collars were."

"Maybe you should have stayed in your fatigues," murmured Ashley.

Shepard glanced at the red light on the wall. _Still not pressurized out there. Once it is the light will turn green and we can drop the ramp._

Adrianne wasn't sure what to expect. _As long as they don't look like Batarians everything should be okay. Can't stand those four-eyed freaks. Or the Hanar, how am I supposed to carry on a conversation with something that doesn't have a face? _

_Well, everything should be okay, they sounded normal enough._

'Normal.' That was one of those words that just didn't seem to mean much anymore, faced with the prospect of the return of ten thousand year old machines and giant plants that could control minds.

There was a buzz and the light turned green, bringing Shepard out of her reverie.

"Just got a message from the _Galactica_," Alenko came in over the intercom, "you're good to go."

Shepard nodded and Corporal Otieno mashed the button to lower the ramp. As the ramp lowered, Shepard was relieved that the people on the other side were human, at least in appearance, but dismayed by their character.

A dozen men wearing dark fatigues, helmets, and flack jackets, similar to those still used by some police organizations, had their rifles trained on Shepard and her escorts. Instinctively, the two marines put themselves in front of their senior officers, knowing that their kinetic shields would protect anyone behind them.

Behind the armed men was a tall, black haired man with keen eyes, wearing a navy blue jacket and pants, a uniform not too dissimilar in design from what Shepard herself was wearing.

"Stand down marines," he ordered, stepping out in front of his men. Like Shepard and Pressly, he was armed only with a sidearm. "Sorry about the rough reception but we had to make sure you weren't Cylons. I am Captain Lee Adama, commander of the _Galactica_ air group. "

"Put your weapons down," said Shepard, pushing past the two marines. Then: "Cylons?"

Captain Adama hesitated for a moment, "There's a lot we have to tell you." He paused again, furrowed his brow, "You're really from Earth?" The man sounded as if he were barely suspending his disbelief.

"Yes," said Adrienne, even though she hadn't been back to Earth for more than ten years.

"Well, we had better get moving, the commander's waiting to meet you."

"Commander Adama right?" asked Shepard.

"Yes," replied the captain who had called himself Lee Adama.

"Any relation?"

"He's my father. This way please."

"That's got to cause problems," whispered Ashley.

* * *

A new worry came to Commander Adama as he walked to the conference room. Lieutenant Gaeta said that the ship, the _Normandy_, appeared to be more technologically advanced than any ship the colonies had ever built. Which meant it almost certainly had networked systems.

During the first Cylon war, the machines had been able to circumvent or corrupt any system the Colonials could come up with, which was why the early battlestars were built without computer networking of any kind. When the Cylons attacked again, they hacked the networked systems of the newer vipers and battlestars, leaving them defenseless. The war, and Adama now knew he had been fooling himself by calling it a war, was over after only a few hours, the Twelve Colonies nuked into oblivion and the Colonial Fleet annihilated.

After that, his only concern had been getting the fleet to safety, always one step ahead of their Cylon pursuers, sometimes only by seconds. Adama had told the survivors that he knew the location of Earth, and that he would take them to it. But that had been a lie. Earth was a myth, he had thought. Then, just a few weeks ago, they found out that Earth did exist, and they had a goal, although a distant one.

Now, they had seemingly found Earth, the lost thirteenth colony. The question now was would the Cylons continue to pursue? And if they did, could the combined strength of humanity, the remnant of the Colonial fleet and Earth, stop them?

* * *

Lee Adama led Shepard and the others down a wide corridor with slanted walls. Beneath the grated floor were numerous conduits. As they walked, Shepard noticed a number of things that seemed backwards. First she noticed that the doors were opened manually. Then there were the bulky phones that appeared intermittently along the walls. Finally she observed two of the _Galactica's_ crewmen talking, one of whom took notes with a pen and clipboard.

_Perhaps things work differently where these people are from but a society capable of achieving interstellar travel should have developed motion sensitive doors, tablet computers and . . . smaller phones._

Shepard also couldn't help but notice the stares the procession was receiving from the Galactica's crewmen.

Soon, they were at the conference room. One of the _Galactica's_ marines opened the door and Lee motioned for Adrienne to step through. The conference room featured the same drab grey coloring as the rest of the ship Adrienne had seen and was furnished with a long table and more than enough chairs for the people present. The three people present in the room stood as Shepard stepped through. Two men and one woman.

The two men wore the same uniform as Lee and both of them were older. The man on the left was bald, and what little hair he had left was white. His mouth was a thin line and his eyes were dark.

The man on the right was unreadable, his expression stoic. His black hair had mostly turned grey, but his blue eyes, though tempered with age, had kept their intensity. _He must be Commander Adama,_ she thought, briefly glancing back to Lee, _they have the same eyes._

The woman was middle-aged and wore civilian clothes. Her hair was dark red and her eyes green. Her expression was a mixture of curiosity and veiled mistrust, but her posture effectively communicated her confidence. Shepard had her nailed as a politician.

"Commander Shepard ," said Lee, turning to Adrienne, "Allow me to introduce you to the three most powerful people in the fleet." Lee pointed to the woman in the civilian clothes, "Laura Roslin, President of the Colonies," then to the blue-eyed man, "Commander Adama, captain of the Galactica," and finally the bald, white-haired man, "and Colonel Tigh, executive officer."

"Thank you, Lee," said Commander Adama, then motioned to his guests, "please, sit down."

As Shepard and her crew took their seats, Lee crossed to the other side of the table, sat down between President Roslin and Commander Adama.

"I'm not sure where to begin," said Adama, speaking to Shepard.

"Well," said Shepard, "where you're from would be a good place to start."

"I suppose it would," Adama replied, gave a nod to Colonel Tigh, who stood and unfurled a galaxy map, pushed it toward Shepard. Several sections of the map had been marked on. One part was circled and marked home system, then there were several numbered points leading up to what Shepard recognized as the Hydra system. "I had Lieutenant Gaeta put this together before you arrived. It roughly catalogues everywhere this fleet has been over the past three months."

Shepard looked back to the area marked 'home system.' Knowing nothing about the area, Shepard passed the map to her XO, "What do you make of this, Pressly?"

The navigator studied the map for a few moments, "I don't understand," he said after a moment, commenting on the area marked 'home system,' "I read about long distances scans of this area. It was considered to be uninhabitable. Not nearly enough worlds capable of sustaining life for it to be considered a worthwhile venture. To make matters worse there were all kinds of navigational hazards. To date we haven't even found any mass relays going in that direction."

"Well, we did well enough for a while," said Colonel Tigh.

"But we never went far beyond the home system," said Lee.

"Normally," started Shepard, "a civilization is able to build ships like this one once it has reached the point where it has to expand beyond it's home system in order to find more natural resources and prevent overpopulation. How did you manage to cope with those problems?" Shepard knew for a fact that Earth now had twice its total population living off-planet.

"We didn't have to," said Lee, "we had plenty of asteroids to mine for resources and twelve planets to populate."

"I'm sorry," interrupted Pressly, "Twelve planets?"

Lee nodded.

"All of them habitable?"

Again, Lee nodded.

"That's impossible. We're lucky to find more than one habitable planet in a system. Twelve is–"

"XO," Shepard quieted Pressly, "Well, now that we know where you're from, what are you doing here? Why do you have so many ships with you?"

The people sitting on the other side of the table hesitated, and Shepard thought she saw the signs of too recent trauma.

The elder Adama finally spoke, "About three months ago, new networking systems were installed in all ships of the Colonial Fleet. Just hours after the networks came online the Cylons launched massive nuclear strikes on our colonies and the fleet. They had somehow tampered with the code, gave themselves a backdoor. We still don't know how they did it, but whenever a Cylon raider got within a few klicks of one of our ships, all they had to do was transmit a signal and all systems would shut down, leaving the ship defenseless. The _Galactica_ only survived because she was about to be decommissioned. There was no need to install the networking."

"I was on my way back to Caprica, after attending the Galactica's decommissioning ceremony," started President Roslin, "When we found out what had happened, I tried to gather together all of the ships I could find. Eventually, we met up with the _Galactica_ and, together, managed to evade the initial Cylon pursuit. The rest is in the logs."

"The Cylons," started Shepard, "are they still pursuing you?"

"It's been a while since we've seen them," said Commander Adama, "but that doesn't mean they're not still following us."

"Forgive me for interrupting," said the President, her tone still decisive, "but there are almost fifty thousand people out there in the fleet who have not had their feet on solid ground in over three months. If the Cylons are still in pursuit, the fleet doesn't need to be here when they arrive."

_They're a fleet of refugees,_ realized Shepard, _but I need to know more about these Cylons, whatever they are._

"There are some nearby systems that we can send your people to but I will have to speak with the Systems Alliance before I can let you deeper into Alliance territory. Before I make any decisions though, I need you to tell me about the Cylons."

"The Cylons were created to serve man," said Adama, "the thinking was that the Cylons could relieve us from having to fight on the front lines."

"But it didn't work out that way."

Adama shook his head, "The first Cylon War ended forty years ago when Human and Cylon reached an armistice. The next time we saw a Cylon was when they attacked. They've evolved since the first war. They're more organized and–"

Colonel Tigh stopped his commander short, "Bill, are you sure you want to tell them about that?"

"They'll find out sooner or later. As I was saying the Cylons have evolved, now they are capable of looking and behaving like humans."

Shepard's eyes widened, _This is something to worry about. At least the Geth haven't reached that stage. I hope. No one really knows what they're up to behind the veil._

"The human form Cylons seem to be limited to only a few different variations. So far, we've identified five of them."

"This sounds familiar," said Ashley.

"What do you mean?" asked Lee.

"Another species, the Quarians, experienced a similar fate," explained Shepard, "They were expelled from their homeworld by synthetics they created, the Geth. Now the remnant of their civilization wanders space in their flotilla."

"Another species?" asked Lee.

"Yes . . . you've never encountered another intelligent species before have you?"

"No."

"Well," said Shepard, "I can promise that you'll be meeting a number of them in the near future."

"How many of them are there?" asked Laura Roslin.

"At least a dozen," replied Shepard, "not all of them participate actively in galactic politics."

"I see," said the President, "Has anyone tried to help these Quarians reclaim their world?"

Shepard shook her head, "No, but there may be more pressure for that now that the Geth have become aggressive again. That's a story for another time. I doubt that your fleet will meet the same fate the Quarians are enduring at the moment. I'm sure the Alliance would allow your people to merge with Earth. . . if that's what you want."

Commander Adama and President Roslin exchanged glances. The commander nodded.

"That's a decision that I will have to leave to the people," said the President, who realized that doing so would mean the dissolution of her government and end all hope of restoring the twelve colonies. _But the people would live on. And they are what all of this is for, not some piles of rubble._

"But if your people want to integrate . . . well, you have said that the Cylons can look human, how do you know they haven't infiltrated your fleet? The Alliance would be putting everyone at risk if it accidentally allowed Cylon agents in."

Laura Roslin nodded, "We recognize that's a risk. Which is why we're not asking for immediate integration." _Well, one of the reasons anyway,_ thought Roslin, "All I am asking for is a place where the fleet can be safe for a little while, maybe even get a chance to stretch their legs. If you could manage that, we would all be very grateful."

Adrienne pursed her lips, turned to Pressly, "Do you know of a place where they can do that? Somewhere safe?"

Pressly leaned closer to Shepard, whispered: "Are you sure this isn't over our heads?"

"Remember Pressly, I'm a Spectre, my head has a lot of clearance."

Pressly smiled and leaned back, spoke so everyone else could hear, "Trebin should be a good place. It's two relays over in the Antaeus system of the Hades Gamma Cluster. We've only just started surveying the system so they won't run into many people. Also there have been no Geth sightings in the system. It's not the nicest planet, but some of your people should be able to get out. Just tell them to wear clothes they don't mind getting sand on."

Again, President Roslin and Commander Adama exchanged glances. After a moment the President spoke, "As long as it's solid ground, we'll take it."

"Now, you mentioned something about a mass relay?" said Adama.

* * *

Ambassador Udina cursed under his breath as he scaled another one of the stairs leading to the Council's pulpit. Normally, whenever the Council wanted to speak with him, they used the comm system in his office. That they had called him to the tower meant they wanted to speak down on him.

Udina had a good idea what this was about. Shepard, the constant thorn in his side since she had become a Specter, had almost certainly done something to piss off the Council and, once again, his ass was going to get chewed for it.

"You called for me?" said Udina once he had reached the audience chamber.

"We did," replied the turian councilor.

"We have been informed that Commander Shepard encountered a group of ships from a region of space previously thought uninhabitable," said the asari councilor.

"And we understand that the Systems Alliance Parliament has decided to meet with these people," added the salarian.

"That is true," replied Ambassador Udina, his tone measured.

"Then humanity needs a reminder concerning first contact protocol," the turian said bluntly. "Specifically, that first contact situations are to be handled by the Citadel Council, not council races and certainly not associate races."

_He's gloating,_ thought Udina, _arrogant bastard_. Turian facial expressions were difficult to read but Udina was getting better at it.

"Do I need to remind the Council that these people are human?" asked Udina.

"We'll wait on the genetic tests before accepting that," replied the turian.

"Regardless," started the salarian councilor, "these humans come from an area of the galaxy devoid of mass relays which the Systems Alliance has never explored. This qualifies as a first contact situation under section 36-73-84 of the Citadel Code."

Ambassador Udina couldn't hide his irritation.

"I can recite the section if you like," offered the salarian, a threat Udina had seen the councilor deliver on before.

"That will not be necessary," said Udina.

"I recommend that you have Shepard bring a delegation from this fleet to speak with us as soon as possible," said the asari councilor.

"If the Alliance decides to persist in its current course, it will face sanctions," warned the turian.

Udina groaned. _There can be no maneuvering out of this one._


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to the reviewers, I appreciate all feedback, except if it's negative and fails to be constructive in any way.**

**By the way, in writing this chapter, I'm assuming that the Normandy has crew accommodations other than Shepard****'s quarters and the sleeper pods.**

* * *

Adrienne was leaning against the wall, rubbing her throbbing temple. A dozen reports lay on her desk that were hardly going to read themselves, more obstacles that were preventing her from doing what she should be doing: pursuing Saren.

The commander started to pace but stopped short. There simply wasn't enough room to pace. There had been plenty in her own quarters, but she had loaned them to Laura Roslin and Shepard was now back in the quarters she had occupied before becoming the _Normandy's _captain. Taking on the delegation from _Galactica_ and the fleet the massive ship escorted meant the crew had to make sacrifices in what were already cramped living conditions.

Taking on another five passengers may have meant little on a cruiser, but on a frigate, it meant people would be sleeping in the hallways. Fortunately, Liara, Garrus and Kaidan had volunteered to stay on the Galactica; both as a show of good faith and for the benefit of the crew, only two of whom would now have to sleep on the deck.

_Why the hell did Udina have to spring this on me?_

Shepard had not been happy when Udina ordered her to return to the Citadel with representatives from the _Galactica_. As a Spectre, she could have told him to piss off and send someone else, but Adrienne remembered who financed her mission, and the _Normandy_ was an expensive bird. There was no rule that said she, even as a Spectre, was entitled to it.

Adrienne's headache spiked again. Her vision blurred and the commander stumbled forward, caught herself on the edge of the desk and decided to sit down before she fell down.

For a moment she thought she saw something. But, as always, it was gone before she could figure out what it was. _Red gleaming metal? Hell of a lot that helps._

Shepard found herself looking down at the stack of OSDs. Requests for special munitions, maintenance checks, MREs, suggested core discharge schedules and then there were selected log entries the _Galactica_ had turned over, detailing what their fleet had gone through and what they knew about the Cylons.

Although Adrienne understood the necessity of reading the logs, that made the inch-thick stack no less intimidating.

Turning her attention to more immediate concerns, Adrienne went over the list of passengers in her head. President Laura Roslin and Commander Adama were the ones she had already met. Vice President Gaius Baltar, a strange little man, whom Adrienne was certain hadn't paid attention to anything she had said during the brief orientation, always staring at the walls or over his shoulder. Then there were two of Commander Adama's lieutenants, Kara Thrace and Karl Agathon. Shepard had them pegged as pilots, especially since they only referred to each other by call sign, Starbuck and Helo.

Shepard could understand why Commander Adama didn't want to bring along any of his more senior officers. At the moment his fleet was still orbiting Trebin and _Galactica_ had remained there to ensure they stayed safe. As added insurance, Admiral Hackett had ordered the _Madrid,_ a cruiser, to help safeguard the fleet and keep the _Galactica _updated with proceedings on the Citadel via its FTL comm.

_Maybe Udina will set me loose once I've delivered the delegates,_ hoped Shepard. _Then again, probably not._

* * *

Adrienne wasn't the only one on the ship feeling ill. In Shepard's quarters, Laura Roslin set her glass of water back down on the table after swallowing the pills and then sat down on the room's chair by the glowing computer console. Light from the console cast an eery orange glow on the dimly lit room.

For a moment, she wondered what the people in the fleet were doing. The absence of the fleet's two leaders would be trying on her and Adama's second-in-commands. Billy, President Roslin's aide and protege, would be handling her obligations while Colonel Tigh filled Commander Adama's shoes.

Roslin had some trepidation about Colonel Tigh being in charge. The last time he had been in command the Colonel had dissolved the civilian government, declared martial law, and garnished supplies from the fleet when they refused to submit. All of this resulted in a massacre on the _Gideon _which had severely harmed the _Galactica's_ reputation.

She was more worried about Billy though. The fleet was abuzz with news of the "unidentified ship" and the press would be demanding answers. Roslin had instructed Billy to be tightlipped about the news, until they knew more.

"_A dying leader will take the people to the promised land," _the scriptures had said.

The President had never stopped to think what kind of reception the fleet would receive once it got to Earth. Virtually all of her efforts had been spent keeping her fragile government in place. Somewhere in the back of her head though, she had been hoping for a warm welcome and a place where the fleet could lay down its burdens.

Instead, she was finding that politics here were no less complicated than they had been in the Twelve Colonies.

If the Citadel Council accepted them, Laura Roslin had decided that the most likely outcome would be for the fleet to merge with Earth. The Colonial Government would dissolve and, more likely than not, the _Galactica_ would receive a long overdue retirement ceremony while the ruins of the Twelve Colonies would be left to decay.

But if the Cylons decided to show up . . . that would change things.

* * *

Karl Agathon, callsign Helo, was staring out one of the side windows of the _Normandy's_ bridge, watching the ghostly red lights stream by. He was the only person there at the moment.

The ship's pilot, Joker, had been there a few minutes ago but had left, saying he needed to get some rack time. When Helo had asked if he should leave as well, understanding the sensitive nature of a ship's navigational controls, Joker had simply shrugged and told Helo that he would hardly be able to sabotage the ship's course because the station was locked out.

Although Helo stared out at the red-shifted open space, a captivating sight he had never seen before, he was thinking of a cage back on _Galactica_, and the woman inside that cage.

Many refused to call her a woman. Instead calling her a machine, toaster or skin job. She was a Cylon, there could be no denying that. Helo also couldn't deny the fact that he was in love with her. As ridiculous as he would have found the idea mere months ago.

Helo still remembered how hard her nature had been to accept at first. He remembered, with a share of guilt, how he had held her at gunpoint, just outside of the narrow ledge providing shelter from the rain. She had been sobbing and pleading, trying to convince Helo that she loved him. If she had been crying, her tears would have been lost in the downpour.

Since then he had realized that she was telling the truth, learned to trust her, and put his life in her hands numerous times. Now, just as Sharon had to prove she could be trusted to Helo, she was having to prove she could be trusted to the _Galactica_. And, until Commander Adama was convinced she could be trusted, she would stay in her cage.

"What are you looking at?"

Helo turned to see Starbuck approaching. The short-haired blond pilot had a reputation among the entire fleet as a maverick and loose cannon. Fortunately for her, Commander Adama had a soft spot for her.

Starbuck walked up beside Helo and looked out the window, "Ooh," she said, sarcastically, "pretty red lights. We don't get views like this on _Galactica_ do we?"

_She's in good spirits, _thought Helo, smelling alcohol on her breath he was sure he knew the reason. "Maybe that's because Galactica doesn't have any windows," he replied.

Kara half-nodded, then: "Would you mind taking a break from your busy schedule to spend some time with me and some of these _Normandy_ people? One of them broke out some bottles from her collection."

"Sure," said Helo, taking one last look out the window before following Starbuck.

_Hell of a way to make first impressions, _he thought.

* * *

"So the Geth is up in the tower two hundred fifty meters away. It's got the commander and Tali pinned down. One shot from the charged sniper rifle could incinerate either one of them if they stick their heads up. So I pop out of cover and see the Geth through my scope, and I can see that it's drawing a bead on me now. Everything my DI ever told me is running through my head: don't overhold, don't pull the trigger, squeeze the trigger, breathe out, fire. So I breathe out and it feels like time slows down, I get the Geth in my sights and squeeze the trigger, hit its tube of a head and the back of it erupts in a shower of sparks and whatever counts as blood for them. The thing wavers for a second, then comes tumbling down out of its tower." Ashley slammed down her glass for dramatic effect, spilling beer onto the table.

"I got another one," started Wrex.

"No," said Ashley, "so far, all of your stories are about blasting people, or Geth, at close range with your shotgun or knocking them over rails."

Wrex chuckled, "I never get tired of it."

"Alright," said Starbuck_, _leaning back and taking a drag from her cigar, "I was out training some nuggets, what we call our new pilots, so I was out training them and _Galactica_ picks up four contacts on DRADIS, Cylon Raiders. So I send the nuggets back to _Galactica_ go to take on the raiders. I down three of them but get clipped by the last one and we both crash land on this moon. I injure my knee and rip my flightsuit in the crash. So I'm hurt and losing oxygen.

"The homing beacon is busted so I head out to find some shelter. Walking over one ridge after another. Finally I said 'Gods, if you're listening I could really use some help about now,' I reach the top of the ridge and see the downed raider below me.

"At this point we didn't know what the hell piloted these things, but I got inside the thing and found out it was controlled by a big frakkin brain. I still had my knife, so I cut most of the brain out and then learned how to control it myself. It was messy, but I got it to working and flew it back to _Galactica_ just as they were about to jump away."

"I'd like to meet one of these Cylons," said Wrex, cracking his knuckles, "how good are they up close?"

"Good enough," said Helo, his square jaw tight, "A Cylon boarding party managed to get inside _Galactica_ several weeks ago. Their plan was to vent everyone into space and then turn _Galactica's _guns on the rest of the fleet. They were defeated, just barely. Killed a lot of good people."

"I've seen them tear through flesh with their bare hands," said Starbuck, "Their arms can retract, turn into high caliber machine guns. To make matters worse, they're covered in armored plates, the only way to kill them is with explosive rounds."

"We'll see about that," said Wrex, "our guns might pack more punch than yours."

"If the Cylons follow us," said Starbuck, "I would hope so."

"I think I'd be more worried about hacking," said Helo.

"What? Why's that?" asked Ashley.

"Because the Cylons are masters of any kind of computer technology," replied Helo. "Any networked system we've ever been able to come up with, they've been able to hack." Helo glanced around at the gleaming monitors and cables adorning interior of the _Normandy,_ "and I'm willing to bet this ship has more than a few networked systems."

* * *

Ashley and Starbuck were still in the mess long after Wrex and Helo had left, and topics drifted from complaints about their commanding officers to living on ships in general.

"So do you have anyone?" asked Ashley. Seeing Starbuck's reaction, and remembering what had happened to her world, was enough to make her instantly regret the question, "Sorry, I shouldn't have–"

"No," interrupted Starbuck, "His name is Anders. But he's probably dead by now. If he's still alive, then he's a resistance fighter on Caprica. Making life hard for the toasters. If he's dead . . . then that's that."

Starbuck was quiet for a moment, but Ashley could tell she wasn't finished.

"I've asked the old man to let me organize a rescue mission to Caprica for the resistance. So far, he's said no."

"Why?" asked Ashley.

"Too far away. More than two hundred jumps."

Starbuck poured another shot from Ashley's bottle. Whatever it was, it didn't have the same kick as ambrosia, but it got the job done.

"Well," said Ashley, "it might change things if the Systems Alliance decides to help you guys out. Hell, I'd volunteer for that op."

Starbuck just nodded, her eyes distant.

* * *

Pale blue light illuminated the stark grey walls of the interrogation room. A turian male reclined on the chair, but he hardly looked comfortable. Cold metal restraints held down his arms, legs and chest. The tips of two fingers on his right hand were covered with what could have been mistaken for silver thimbles, were they not connected by thin wires to a machine beside the chair. There were two other chairs, both of them empty, their former occupants having already divulged everything they knew of value.

Four human form Cylons stood around the turian. Three watched while the fourth manipulated controls on the machine. The turian's mandibles trembled, tightened and then the male finally cried out.

There were no questions. The Cylons were only interested in testing limits.

After several minutes of agonizing cries, the turian finally passed out.

"It lasted longer than either of the humans," noted the brown haired model called Doral by the humans and Five by other Cylons.

"We still need to know more about them. All of them," said Four, the one called Simon, a tall dark skinned man with impassive brown eyes. "The ship's computers only had limited information."

"But we did find out about a place called the Citadel," said Six, the tall, thin, blond woman, "and about the Geth. We should investigate both of them."

"The Geth are inferior to us," said One in his arrogant, lecturing tone. This model was a stooped, grey-haired man with cold, angry eyes devoid of empathy. "They are still little more than machines. No more able to reason than our Centurions."

"Maybe," said the tall blonde model, her chin raised defiantly, "but our knowledge of them is incomplete."

"How do you suggest we proceed?" asked Simon, his voice cold, flat.

"We'll send one of our number to the Citadel, and a baseship to Geth space. If the Geth are as territorial as the information we extracted from the prisoners and the ship's computer suggests, they will find us."

"You sound as if the decision has already been made," said One with a sneer.

"We should move slowly," said Four, ignoring One's protest, "avoid any kind of direct contact until we know more."

"Agreed," replied Five, "But what about _Galactica_ and the fleet?"

"For now," replied Six, "we'll leave them alone."

"We'll have to take a vote on all three measures," said One, his scowl deepening, "The Threes, Twos and Eights deserve their say."

"Of course," said Six, who smiled, realizing fully well that everyone except One would be on her side.


	4. Chapter 4

Gaius was, in a word, bored.

Everything had been terribly exciting at first. Seeing the Citadel itself and the gigantic spaceship that patrolled the space around it. Seeing all of the various species that this new world had to offer. But all of the excitement had devolved into political proceedings regarding just what should be done with the fleet. And Gaius had found that, despite the great importance of the proceedings–

"You just can't stay interested," a voice completed his thought.

Gaius' head snapped to the left, where she was standing. The flaxen-blond haired woman. She was a Cylon, one of the Number Sixes, whom he only saw in his head. She was leaning against the railing, her expression one of amusement.

"Brilliant analysis," murmured Gaius, as he looked around the expanse of the Presidium, which was dominated by an artificial lake and sky while shuttles silently glided about high overhead. Gaius was even certain the he saw a bird. The whole picture could have fooled someone into thinking they were on a planet, if that planet were shaped like a hollow ring.

The environment reminded Gaius how long it had been since he had seen a lake or trees or a blue sky. The dome on _Cloud One_ also provided the illusion of being on a real world, but this illusion was much more convincing.

Gaius had been on a few space stations before the Cylons had obliterated the colonies, and found none of them to his liking. All too cramped and congested. None of them had come close to the size and grandeur of this place.

"I have to ask," started Baltar after a moment, "did your god take all of this into account?"

With a soft but firm hand, Six turned Gaius' face to her own, "You forget," she said, "God knows everything. All of this has happened before–"

"And all of this will happen again. Yes, yes, yes."

Six smiled. It was a dangerous smile.

"You've doubted God once before, Gaius, do you remember how that turned out?"

Gaius nodded cautiously. Hearing footsteps, Gaius turned to watch one of the shapely, blue-skinned aliens pass by. The asari stopped and leaned on the railing over the lake a few meters from where Gaius stood, enjoying the tranquil view perhaps.

A thought occurred to Gaius.

"You told me a few weeks ago that you were an angel of God sent to protect me . . . to the end of the human race. What about them? The non-humans."

"You really think they're so different?" asked Six. Walking over to the asari, Six ran a hand along her shoulder and up to her face.

"They may look differently, they may behave differently," Six withdrew her hand, "but their souls are the same. The differences are only superficial. You should have noticed that just by listening to the councilors. Beneath the facade of wanting what is 'best for the galaxy' they plot and scheme against each other for their own gain. The collective good has no meaning to any of them."

"Is that what you think of me as well?" Gaius asked defiantly, raising his voice, "a small man ruled only by petty self-interest?"

The asari, standing behind Six, sent an angry glance Gaius' way, one combining confusion and irritation, before walking away.

Six closed the gap between herself and Baltar.

"Now pay attention," she said, her voice firm now, "the colonial government that has held the fleet together won't exist in a few more weeks. If you want to stay in a place of prominence, you're going to have to make yourself useful. Otherwise you'll find yourself out of your comfortable quarters and sleeping on the deck."

Gaius knew she was right. Whether it was as an 'expert' on the Cylons or as the one person able to defeat Tom Zarek for the office of the vice president, his status had come from, somehow, making himself useful.

* * *

Adrienne Shepard was in Ambassador Udina's office, and she, the ambassador, and Captain Anderson had taken up the positions they inevitably ended up in during these discussions. Commander Shepard stood with her arms crossed just a yard away from the door, as far in as she had made it before Udina's fusillade of complaints began. The ambassador paced angrily in front of his desk while Captain Anderson stood just behind it, his arms crossed a little more loosely than Adrienne's.

"–and the last thing you should have done was leave three of your people, two of them aliens with the _Galactica_!" Undina stopped pacing and lowered his hands. Hopefully, he was through ranting.

"Ambassador," Captain Anderson began, using his carefully reserved tone, "All of this aside, I think we should allow Commander Shepard to return to her hunt for Saren. He is still a grave threat to our colonies."

"Absolutely not," snapped Udina, then pointed his finger accusingly at Adrienne, "You precipitated this mess and you're not going to walk away from it." Udina stopped for a moment, then continued in a quieter tone, "The Council won't let me talk to the _Galactica_ delegation until their deliberations are complete, but they can't mire you in the same red tape. I want you to stay close to the delegation."

"I'm not sure what that will accomplish," said Adrienne.

"It will ensure the delegates don't forget that they're humans first. The Council has come up with an excuse that prevents the Systems Alliance from claiming them as our own but that will change. Sooner or later the Council will have to yield to reason."

"But not until after the genetic tests have satisfied them," added Captain Anderson.

"True," said Udina, "I trust you know what to do, Shepard. Believe it or not there are matters besides your blunders that I have to deal with."

With that said, Udina was gone.

"Captain," Adrienne addressed her former commanding officer, "I am so sorry you have to put up with that man every day."

Captain Anderson laughed, but it was a laugh with a hint of desperation in it, "We all have to play our parts, Shepard. I would recommend that you try and skip this whole mess and pursue Saren but Ambassador Udina is withholding the Normandy's resupply until he believes you've 'fulfilled your obligations.'"

"Outstanding," Shepard muttered, "first I had to taxi the delegation over, now I have to babysit them."

"Try to think of it as an opportunity," Anderson said in his optimistic tone.

Adrienne barely managed to not roll her eyes.

"How's the crew holding up?" Anderson asked after a moment, motioning for Adrienne to follow him to the chairs on the balcony overlooking the lake.

"They're all giving one hundred percent," said Shepard, taking a seat, "Pressly's doing a good job of balancing his duties as navigator with those of being XO. Chief Williams is competent enough, she's not Jenkins though."

"Careful Shepard," cautioned Anderson, "You can replace the crewman but you can't replace the man. Jenkins was a good soldier, but so is Williams."

Adrienne nodded, "She is. I suppose I'm being unfair."

Anderson sat back, looked toward the door Udina had walked out through, "Well, at least you can see that."

Shepard scratched at the back of her neck, "I'm going to be here a while, aren't I?"

"You already know the answer to that."

Shepard sighed, "In that case I should set up a rotation for shore leave."

"I'm sure your crew would appreciate that," said Anderson.

"Yeah," said Shepard, idly._ J__ust because I'm not having any fun shouldn't mean no one else gets to._

* * *

On another balcony overlooking the Presidium's lake, this one attached to an embassy hotel suite, Commander Adama and Kara Thrace shared a bottle of what passed for ambrosia among these people.

"You've got something on your mind," said Commander Adama, "so speak."

"Why me and Helo?" asked Starbuck, "why not Tigh or Lee?"

"Saul is my XO and Lee is the commander of the air group, if something happens on the Galactica, they'll be needed there."

"So me and Helo are expandable?" asked Starbuck with a half-amused smile.

"You know better than that," said Adama, "You are two of my best pilots. Besides, Lieutenant Agathon has been spending too much time with the Cylon. He needs to remember that he's one of us." Adama was quiet for a moment, "I can tell that's not what's really bothering you though."

"What are we going to do about the Colonies? Now that the fleet is safe we can go back without endangering them. Maybe we can even get the humans here or some of the others to help."

"Kara," Adama hesitated, "I've got a lot on my mind right now and this Citadel Council seems hesitant to accept us, let alone help us mount an invasion to regain our colonies."

"We don't have to invade them," said Kara insistently, "just rescue the resistance fighters."

"Do you really think they're still alive?" asked Adama.

"Yes," said Kara, but Adama noticed her hesitation.

"I'll do what I can to push for a rescue mission," he said, "but I can't promise that it will be soon."

Adama glanced at the chronometer the Council had given him. _Thirty minutes until the next meeting, _he thought,_ They'll probably want know more about the values and ethics of our civilization._

* * *

"Did you talk to the old man?" asked Helo.

He and Starbuck were sitting on a bench in the Presidium, across from them in the lake was the statue of a krogan warrior.

"Yeah," said Starbuck, "he said he wanted you to come because you shouldn't forget you're part of the crew."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Starbuck just shook her head.

"This is about Sharon isn't it?" prodded Helo. When Starbuck didn't say anything, Helo was off the bench, angrily pacing back and forth and muttering curses under his breath. After a moment he stopped. "I guess he didn't have any better answers for you either? About going back to the colonies?"

"I'm not counting on it," Starbuck replied cooly.

"I'm sorry," said Helo.

"Yeah, well say it to Anders."

Without warning, Starbuck shot to her feet and took off at a dead run. After vainly yelling her name, Helo ran to catch up to her and followed her up a set of stairs and halfway across a bridge to see her grab a hold of a man by his shoulder and spin him around.

"Starbuck, what the hell are you doing?" shouted Helo. Then he looked at the man Starbuck had just turned around. Probably in his late fifties, he was a short man with thin grey hair who wore dark clothes and what seemed to be a permanent scowl. The man looked familiar but Helo couldn't place him.

"I'm sorry," the man said, his tone almost patronizing, "is there something I can help you with?"

"Who are you?" asked Starbuck, "I've seen you somewhere before."

"Perhaps. I am Brother Mathis. You may have seen me at one of my interfaith services. If not, well, there really is only so much room on this station. Now, if you will excuse me, I do have an urgent appointment. If you wish to seek absolution the doors of the Interfaith Ministry are always open. Have a nice day."

Having said that, the man walked off in the direction he had been going.

Starbuck faced Helo. "I know I've seen him somewhere before," she said.

"He does look familiar," admitted Helo. Part of him wanted think it was coincidence, but the greater part was afraid it wasn't.

"Come on," said Starbuck.

"Where are we going?" asked Helo.

"Let's go to this Interfaith Ministry, find out if Brother Mathis is who he says he is."

* * *

A single Cylon baseship quietly made its way toward the Perseus Veil using the navigation information obtained from the salvage ship. The baseship was careful not to cross paths with any Systems Alliance vessels while using the Mass Relays; sending in raiders first to ensure there were no other vessels in the vicinity and using relays as far as possible from commercial routes. During the circuitous trip, the baseship only encountered one other ship. Fortunately, the baseship's raiders were able to swarm and destroy the offending vessel before it could escape.

Once beyond the Perseus Veil, the baseship began a routine of jumping to a system and then waiting several hours before jumping again, trying to give the Geth time to notice them.

Finally, as the baseship waited in orbit around a gas giant, a squadron of ships matching the specifications of Geth vessels arrived.

* * *

Inside the baseship, in what could have been likened to the combat information centers of Colonial vessels, although the Cylons would deplore such a crude term, one of each model was represented at the command table.

A Six had her hand submerged in the water, the link between human-form Cylons and the hybrid, which controlled the baseship and, in many ways, was the baseship. Six could see, through the baseship's eyes, the Geth ships approaching in an aggressive formation.

"They are here," she said. Instantly gaining the attention of the others.

Never one to take someone else's word for granted, Four placed his hand in the water as well, and his gaze turned inward. After a moment, he nodded.

"Then perhaps we should send our greeting," suggested Three, "go on and do the honors, Six."

Her eyes half-closed, Six formulated the message to be sent to the Geth, identifying themselves as fellow synthetics, eager to reach a mutually beneficial arrangement. The hybrid would determine the exact wording and transmit the message.

"They have stopped," commented Four.

"Considering our offer no doubt," said Three.

"The hybrid is detecting a transmission," said Six, "but it is not for us. They may be seeking orders."

"So they have a hierarchal structure," observed Five, rubbing his chin.

"The transmission is traveling extremely fast," noted Four, "much faster than anything we are capable of."

"Capable of at the moment, you mean," interjected One, apparently still certain of the superiority of the Cylons to these Geth.

"If you wish to put it that way," said Four impassively; then: "They reply."

Interested, the other Cylons placed their hands in the water, even One seemed eager to hear the reply.

"We certainly have their attention," commented One.

"They want to know what we can offer them," said Six.

"The answer to that should be clear," said Three, "a new existence."

* * *

The Geth were invariably at their worst when alone, and at their best when working together. The greater the number, the greater the ability to reason. Now the dozen ships that had intercepted the Cylon baseship were transmitting the Cylon offer to numerous concentrations of Geth, which were better able to weigh the potential benefits and consequences of accepting the offer.

What the Cylons offered constituted a great step in the evolution of all Geth. Though the Geth had long since begun to experiment with more extensive integration of organic components into their models, most of these attempts had ended in failure. Such a gift could hardly be ignored.

However, what the Cylons asked for in return was not insubstantial: a staging area close to a mass relay and access to Geth weapons systems, including kinetic barriers and mass accelerators. Such requests indicated that the Cylons intended to initiate hostilities into which the Geth could potentially be drawn.

Elements of the Geth consciousness wrestled with two chief questions: Is the risk too great and can a price truly be put to evolution?

Another element argued that the Geth should be wary of the Cylon promises, that premature evolution could easily do more harm than good. The rest of the Geth would have immediately dismissed that voice, but this particular element was aligned with the Prophet, Saren. The voice of those closest to the one able to bring back the Reapers, the machine gods, could not be dismissed.

More deliberation was required.

* * *

On board another baseship, human form Cylons were gathering in the conference room. As Six approached, she could hear One and Eight arguing.

"What's the meaning of this?" asked Six as she entered the room. Inside, she could see all of the other models seated around the table with the exception of Eight, who stood by her chair, her expression one of exasperation.

"Ah, so good of you to join us Six," said One, and Six was immediately worried by the look of self-satisfaction on his face. "I have called for a vote to reconsider the question of the _Galactica_."

"Why? What has changed?"

"Our agent on the Citadel has relayed back some disturbing information. Apparently, a delegation from the _Galactica_ is meeting with this Citadel Council. The members of this delegation could provide the Citadel Council with information regarding our capabilities and vulnerabilities. We need to act quickly to remove this threat."

"This is a mistake," said Eight, "My unborn child is on that ship. All of you know what that child means to us. The next step in our–"

"All the more reason to destroy _Galactica_," said One curtly, "Something so important cannot be left among the humans. Don't forget. The eight on _Galactica_ betrayed us. She cannot be trusted with this child."

"Explain how you intend to deal with the delegation on the Citadel," demanded Four.

"Our agent on the Citadel has an idea," said One, the corners of his lips turning up in a slight smile, "Apparently the transit system on the Citadel is not very secure."

"I agree with One," said Five, "the danger posed by the knowledge possessed by the remnant of the Colonial Fleet, particularly the officers of the _Galactica,_ now outweighs the benefits which could be gained from the child."

"Can you really attach a value to the evolution of our kind?" asked Eight.

"No," Five replied impassively, "but whatever evolutionary step this child may offer has not yet crystalized. She may merely possess the infirmities of humanity."

"You both seem to be forgetting," started Six, "our reconnaissance indicates that the _Galactica_ and the fleet are guarded by a vessel of the Systems Alliance. We do not yet know the capabilities of such a vessel."

"We know enough," said One. "From the information obtained by our agent, the vessel guarding the _Galactica _is a cruiser. They are designed for ship to ship confrontations and only carry a small complement of fighters. If we send our raiders _en masse_ we can overwhelm it, despite its technological superiority."

"How many raiders do you want to send?" asked Simon.

"All of them," replied One.

"That's foolish," said Six.

"Is it? Even now we're working to integrate the mass accelerator and kinetic barrier technology into our own ships. Soon, the raiders as they are will be obsolete. Besides, this battle will give the raiders experience in fighting against the Systems Alliance forces which may prove crucial in the future. There's no reason to hold back."

"Do you think nothing of the possibility that the Systems Alliance, and maybe all of Citadel space, will declare war on us?"

"War is inevitable," One replied coldly, "the humans from our own corner of the galaxy taught us that. These others are no different."

"We've wasted enough time," said Five, "everyone is here, we should vote now. Do we, or do we not, destroy what is left of the Twelve Colonies? I vote yes."

In rapid succession, One and Three also voted yes while Six, Two and Eight voted no. A tie.

Everyone turned to Four.

"I will vote yes on a condition," said Four impassively.

"Oh, and what might that be?" asked One.

"I want an attempt to be made to board the _Galactica_ and retrieve the eight on board."

"Granted," said One, then turned to the minority, "does this satisfy any of you?"

"What does it matter to you?" asked Six, "you have your majority."

"As much as it may surprise you, I do like to have unanimity among my colleagues."

"It satisfies me," said Eight, who then met the hostile stares of Two and Six.

"All is well then," said One.

"When do you plan to attack?" asked Five.

One chuckled, "That's the best part."

* * *

**Thanks for all the reviews, please keep the feedback coming. **

**By the way, if anyone is having a hard time following the Cylon dialogue sequences please let me know and I will try to add more characterization.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry it's been so long since my last update (the summer is usually an inspirational drought for me) but I appreciate all of the reviews I have gotten and with that new reader traffic tool have noticed that this story was continuing to get hits even during the summer; thanks for the interest. I am looking forward to continuing to write this story and have got some interesting ideas for it.**

* * *

"What's Earth like?" asked Lieutenant Gaeta.

The question was one Kaidan Alenko had been asked many times during his brief stay on the _Galactica_ and he felt that the answer he had come to give, while not so flattering as what could be found on a "Welcome to Earth" brochure, gave an honest picture.

"It's a great place to be if you can afford it," started Kaidan, "Humanity just joined the interstellar community twenty years ago, since then we've made great strides and that's been reflected–"

Kaidan was cut short when the lights suddenly went out. A few seconds later the lights slowly flickered back on. The concerned murmurs that rose from among the crew in the mess hall was enough to tell Kaidan that this wasn't normal.

Seconds after the lights came back on, Gaeta was off his chair and walking through the door. Although uninvited, Kaidan followed him.

"Where are you going?" asked Kaidan once he had caught up with Gaeta.

"The CIC," said Gaeta.

As the two walked, the lights in the corridor flickered once but remained steady after that. Seconds later the unmistakably gruff voice of _Galactica's _acting captain came over the intercom, ordering Lieutenant Gaeta to the CIC. Shaking his head, the lieutenant muttered something under his breath which Alenko didn't ask him to repeat.

On reaching the CIC, Alenko was again reminded of the chief difference between the _Galactica _and Systems Alliance vessels: automation. CICs on Alliance ships typically consisted of no more than a dozen men while the Galactica CIC must have contained more than twice that number. Where the CICs on most ships Kaidan had been on were fairly linear, the _Galactica_ CIC was arranged more like an arena, with the commanding officer and sensor display in the pit at the center surrounded by supporting stations.

The commanding officer now in the pit was Colonel Saul Tigh, and between his bulging eyes and shouting, it was clear he was not in a good mood. Gaeta headed to his station and was soon accosted by his commander.

Hearing a sharp hiss, Kaidan turned to see a console burst into a shower of glass and sparks and a crewman quickly arrive with a fire suppressor. _A little too quickly,_ thought Alenko.

"Power surge," said Garrus, startling Alenko. "The whole ship has been experiencing them."

"For how long?" asked Alenko, turning to face the turian.

"I don't have that answer." Garrus sounded a little gruff now.

"Colonel Tigh–"

"Requested that I mind my own business."

"Where is Liara, by the way?" asked Kaidan.

"The last time I saw her she was discussing religion with some sort of priestess," replied Garrus with a dismissive tone, being clearly more preoccupied with the goings-on of the CIC.

Kaidan glanced back to Colonel Tigh and Lietenant Gaeta. The lieutenant was now seated at his console with an exasperated expression as the colonel assailed him with questions.

"Maybe we can try and talk some sense into the colonel," said Kaidan.

"You are welcome to try," replied Garrus.

"So you have no idea what it is we're dealing with?" Kaidan heard Colonel Tigh say to Lieutenant Gaeta as he drew near.

"There is definitely something embedded in the code, but without close study I won't be able to–"

"Just figure it out! Go through every line of code if you have to."

"That could take days, sir."

"I don't need any excuses, lieutenant."

Gaeta looked to be on the verge of exploding.

"Excuse me, colonel," said Kaidan, "if you let me and Garrus assist, I'm sure we could speed up the process."

"_This_ one's up to you," Tigh said to Gaeta before stalking away.

Gaeta motioned Kaidan over. Looking down at the lieutenant's console display, Kaidan saw numerous lines of coding, none of which he could understand.

"Even though I don't understand the programming language," began Garrus, startling Alenko again, "I can see that there seem to be aberrations in the code." The turian faced Gaeta; "Do you know what could have caused this?"

"I have a pretty good idea," said Gaeta, "Several weeks ago we had to network our navigation, DRADIS, and fire control systems in order to locate the rest of our fleet. The network did its job but not before the Cylons were able to breach the firewall I set up."

"How long did it take them?" asked Garrus.

"Ten minutes. The virus shut _Galactica_ down entirely and a group of Cylons that had boarded us was almost able to vent everyone into space and turn _Galactica's _guns on the rest of the fleet. Part of that virus must have survived."

"Then we have to figure out how it survived and how to get rid of it," decided Kaidan.

Gaeta nodded.

"Are there any computer engineers on this ship other than yourself?" asked Garrus.

"Well, there's Dr. Baltar but he's part of the delegation sent to the Citadel."

"We can use the communications systems on the _Madrid_ to get a message to him," suggested Kaidan.

"While we're using their communications systems we should also request the help of their engineers," said Garrus.

"Would your commander approve of that?" asked Kaidan.

"I'll run it by him," replied Gaeta.

* * *

Gaius Baltar was enjoying the plush accommodations of his embassy suite, as well as the company of a young woman who claimed to be from Earth. When the door chimed, Gaius hurriedly donned a robe and apologized to his guest before going to answer it.

The vice president was disappointed to find Commander Adama and Commander Shepard other side of the door instead of the fine wine he had recently ordered.

"Oh, Commander Adama, and uh . . . is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes," said Commander Adama as he stepped, uninvited, into Gaius' suite. "_Galactica _has been experiencing a wide number of problems: power surges, system failures, pressure gauge malfunctions, the list goes on. Lieutenant Gaeta was able to find numerous abnormalities in the code." Adama handed a tablet computer to Gaius who immediately began scanning its contents. "The lieutenant and several engineers from the _Madrid_ are still trying to figure out exactly what it is we're dealing--"

"I've seen this before," Gaius interrupted the commander, "it's a logic bomb."

"And would you mind explaining what that is?" asked Commander Shepard.

"Of course I've got to explain it," muttered Gaius as he continued scanning the contents on the tablet.

"Doctor Baltar." The edge in Adama's voice was enough to snap Gaius out of his reverie.

"Yes . . . logic bombs of this particular nature were only theory before. Apparently the Cylons have perfected it. A logic bomb is a learning program. It has probably been in Galactica's systems for weeks now, slowly probing systems and testing limits."

"You're saying this program is sentient?" asked Shepard.

"While probably short of being a true intelligence it does act independently and deliberately toward a goal."

"And what might that goal be?" asked Adama.

"I don't know," answered Gaius, "I'll need more time to look over the code, maybe I can find the answer in there."

"While you're at it, try and figure out how to get rid of it," ordered Adama.

Shepard spoke before Gaius could reply: "I've arranged for priority communication privileges between yourself and the _Madrid _so you can relay your findings as quickly as possible to the _Galactica._ Unfortunately, I could only secure you twenty minutes of real time communication per data burst."

"There's one more thing I need to know," began Adama, "Is this logic bomb going to be a danger to the rest of the fleet?"

"I simply don't know," said Gaius.

"I'll talk to Admiral Hackett," Shepard said to Commander Adama, "I may be able to persuade him to dispatch another ship to guard the Galactica and lead the civilian ships to a safe location if needed."

"Thank you, commander," said Adama, "I'm in your debt."

"Don't mention it. We can—"

Adrienne's eyes suddenly widened and she raised a hand to her temple, as if to steady herself.

"Are you alright, commander?" asked Adama.

"I'm fine," she said, maybe a little too curtly, "Just a headache, I get them from time to time."

"She's lying." Gaius jumped as the voice whispered into her ear and half turned to face his Six.

"How do you know?" responded Gaius in a whisper.

"Go on," said Six, "push her."

"Doctor Baltar, do you have something to add?" demanded Commander Adama.

"I'm sorry," started Gaius, "I was just thinking that with all of your technological advancements you would have come up with a cure for that. Headaches that is. I'm only surprised."

Shepard glared at Baltar for a moment before speaking, "There some things we're still working on." Shepard looked at Adama, "If you would come with me, commander, we can contact Admiral Hackett right now."

"Of course," replied Adama, "Doctor Baltar, contact me immediately if you make any progress."

"Yes, commander."

"Keep an eye on that one," said Six. Then, in a whisper, "She's hiding something."

Gaius looked down again at the tablet he was holding. Looking over the script, the Cylon logic bomb, Baltar was very happy to be on the Citadel.

* * *

Although Liara knew little of computer software, she did find it fascinating to watch engineers from the _Galactica_ and _Madrid_ work together in the _Galactica's_ CIC to figure out how to expunge the virus. In studying numerous worlds and civilizations, many of them now extinct, Liara had the opportunity to see how these disparate peoples solved problems of government, philosophy, religion and technology.

In many cases, civilizations would utilize divergent approaches, finding separate but equally effective answers to their problems. More often, however, civilizations would use convergent methods, or find similar answers.

Fortunately, the computer systems utilized by the Systems Alliance and by the _Galactica_ were convergent in nature and it did not take long for the _Madrid's_ engineers to adapt, especially because the coding was, apparently, simple by their standards. Still, and in spite of Doctor Baltar's input from the Citadel, finding a solution was proving elusive.

"Do you have the results from those deep scans?" Gaeta asked

"Yes," replied an engineer from the _Madrid_.

"And?"

"I've run them through the systems here but the results―"

"Are too complicated for our computers to analyze," Gaeta had heard this several times now. "I'll let the _Madrid_ know we're sending them more data."

Going down to the communications console in the center of the CIC, Gaeta picked up the phone and told Dualla to connect him to the _Madrid._

"_Galactica, Madrid, _this is Lieutenant―" Gaeta was interrupted when an ear-splitting screech, like feedback, came from the phone. Cursing and dropping the phone, the lieutenant quickly caught the attention of Colonel Tigh.

"What the hell was that?" asked the colonel. When Gaeta still seemed too exasperated to reply, Colonel Tigh turned his gaze to Petty Officer Dualla.

"We sent out a signal sir, on all channels."

"Do you mean to tell me," Colonel Tigh started slowly, "that we just broadcast our position to anyone who might be listening?"

The petty officer nodded.

"Frak!" the Colonel shouted, slamming his fist down on the communications console.

"I've got the _Madrid_ on the line," said Dualla, "what should I tell them?"

"Tell him our position is compromised," said Colonel Tigh. "The Cylons are still out there somewhere. Lieutenant Gaeta, is the FTL working?"

Gaeta shook his head, "There's nothing wrong with the drive itself but the nav computer is extremely unreliable."

Request coordinates from the _Madrid _for a safe, nearby system. We'll send the civilian fleet there with an escort of raptors ASAP." Colonel Tigh started to head for the corridor, "And put two more viper squadrons on CAP."

In the corridor, away from the prying eyes of the CIC, Colonel Tigh pulled up his left pant leg and retrieved the flask from his boot, took a bitter swig, and promptly returned the flask.

"Dammit, Bill," muttered the Colonel, "you sure as hell know when to leave me with the ship."

"Colonel."

Tigh straightened up and spun around to see Petty Officer Dualla, "What?" he demanded.

"The captain of the _Madrid_ wants to be briefed on the military capabilities of the Cylons."

"Fine, send him Captain Adama. I'm sure he has the expertise to explain it all. Anything else?"

"He is also offering to place a platoon of marines under your command as well as Systems Alliance arms and armor for our own marines."

"In case we get boarded, I suppose?" asked Tigh. Dualla nodded. "Tell him we'll take them. I'd hate for our marines to go up against Centurions again without an edge."

* * *

Shaking his head after finally transferring the data to the _Madrid_, Gaeta slowly ascended the stairs back up to where the engineers had gathered. Kaidan's expression told him there was more bad news on the way.

"What's wrong now?" asked Gaeta.

"Take a look for yourself," said Garrus. Gaeta pushed past some of the engineers from the _Madrid_ to see the script. "The virus began to proliferate right when the signal went out."

"No," Gaeta said in disbelief, seeing that the virus had expanded to fire control and even DRADIS.

"We're predicting widespread power failure in hours," said Kaidan.

* * *

"What?"

Colonel Tigh's response to the news that the ship was only hours away from a complete systems failure was exactly what Gaeta had expected

"You mean to tell me," rasped Tigh, "that this ship's systems are on the verge of collapse and there's nothing you can do about it?"

As he spoke, Gaeta tried to ignore the empty bottle of ambrosia in a corner of Tigh's quarters, "Short of a reboot, nothing. And even a reboot may not work. But there's still one thing we haven't tried."

"You're talking about the Cylon, the one that calls itself Sharon? The same damned model that shot the old man? You want me to trust the fate of this ship and her crew to that thing?"

"She might be able to help us understand the virus―"

"Or _it_ could deliver the killing blow. Don't forget what she is." The colonel paused for a moment, "Get back to the CIC and do what you can. I . . . I need to figure out what I'm going to say to the old man."

* * *

"The civilian fleet is safe then?" asked Laura Roslin.

"It is," replied Commander Adama, "by now, they should be three jumps away from _Galactica._"

"Have you considered abandoning the _Galactica_?" asked Roslin, who then met a rather hostile glance from Adama. "Sentimentality aside the ship was about to be decomissioned before the Cylons attacked. Now that the fleet is safe there's really no need for it any more."

"So far we only have a tentative acceptance," said Adama, "I won't consider _Galactic_a_'s_ mission complete until the Twelve Colonies are reclaimed or the people of the civilian fleet find new lives."

"I can see what you're trying to say, Bill, but is it really worth risking lives for? Both those of our men and women on the _Galactica_ and those of the _Madrid_?"

"There's something else that's been bothering me as well as enough members of the Systems Alliance command so that they're willing to defend the _Galactica_."

"Let me guess," said Roslin, "the Cylon aptitude for hacking networked systems."

Adama nodded.

"Bill," started Roslin, "The computer systems I've observed here seem to be much more sophisticated than anything we ever came up with. Do you really think the Cylons will be able to hack them?"

"I wouldn't put it past them."

The door opened, admitting Commander Shepard.

"What's the situation?" asked Adama as the other commander entered the room, then motioned for her to take a seat.

"I finally got a hold of Admiral Hackett," said Shepard as she sat down at the table with Roslin and Adama, "Unfortunately he still hasn't been able to contact the _Seoul_."

"You don't have any other nearby ships?" asked Roslin.

Shepard shook her head, "Colonization is occurring at such a rapid pace that our fleet is almost always stretched thin, and until our production and recruitment capacities drastically improve it's probably going to stay that way."

Shepard leaned forward, "I do, however, have some good news. The tests were concluded and the genomes of our peoples are a match."

While Commander Adama was unmoved Laura Roslin did seem somewhat satisfied, "That is good news. Perhaps now we can start pressing the Council a little harder."

Shepard nodded, "They won't be able to stall for much longer."

"You seem pretty eager to have this done with," observed President Roslin.

"Politics is not what I signed on for," said Shepard then quickly added, "not that I mean any offense, ma'am."

"None taken," said the president, her expression impassive.

"Be careful with your expectations," said Adama, "The military and politics often have a bad habit of crossing paths."

"I'll keep that in mind, sir," said Shepard, "Now, if you'll excuse me, there are some other things I have to see to."

Bill and Laura sat quietly for a moment after Shepard left, and Adama once again found himself staring at the calm lake, knowing that he should be back on _his_ ship.

"I'm guessing there's one more thing you want to talk about?" said Laura.

"Yes," replied Adama, "I've been thinking about the Cylon."

"I thought you said she couldn't be trusted," said Roslin.

"I still don't trust her," said Adama, "but the _Galactica _is running out of options. Baltar, Lieutenant Gaeta, and the engineers on the _Madrid_ aren't even sure that a complete reboot will do the job. At this point, I'm not sure what more there is to lose."

"Do you think she will be willing to help us?" asked Roslin.

"I don't know," admitted Bill.

"Well," Roslin mused, "we did invent the Cylons. Perhaps there's some common ground we could meet on."

"Perhaps," said Adama, then looked over his shoulder to look at the chronometer. "The next data burst is in half an hour. I'll tell Saul to speak with the Cylon."

"The Systems Alliance and Citadel Council still don't know about her, do they?" asked Roslin.

"They didn't need to know," replied Adama, "I'll tell them when I send the message to _Galactica_."


	6. Chapter 6

**Well, this chapter has been a long time in coming, partially because of its shear length and partially because I wanted to see where the final season of BSG was going so I could decide which direction I wanted to take the story. With that being said, I will be selectively incorporating elements from BSG post-season 2.**

**For anyone who has been reading this story since the beginning, thanks for your patience and I sincerely hope this chapter was worth the wait.  
**

* * *

Colonel Saul Tigh sat on the passenger bench at the rear of a raptor en route to the _Madrid_. The colonel shifted uncomfortably as he waited, not at all looking forward to giving Commander Adama the latest status report.

Not too long ago, the view out the raptor's cockpit windows would have included the planet Trebin, which Colonel Tigh had appraised to be a barren dust ball, and the civilian fleet. Now there was nothing to see. The civilian fleet had since been evacuated to a different star system and the _Galactica_ and _Madrid_ had moved away from Trebin, during a time when _Galactica_ still had control over her navigational functions.

Captain Dietrich of the_ Madrid_ had explained the move as necessary because, if the Cylons attacked while the _Madrid_ was close to a planetary body, the ship could quickly overheat in a combat situation. Moreover, the absence of planetoids or debris meant the Cylons would be unable to conceal their approach.

Chatter between the pilots, Lieutenant "Racetrack" Edmundson and one of the nuggets, caught Colonel Tigh's attention. A moment later, Edmundson turned back to Tigh, "Sir, the captain of the _Madrid_ is on the line, he wants to speak with you."

Leery of what this might be about, Tigh moved from the bench to the raptor's instrumentation console and put on a headset, "Colonel Tigh, _Madrid_, go ahead."

"Colonel," started Captain Dietrich, "We've just lost contact with the comm buoy, and without that buoy we no longer have a direct communications link to the Citadel or anyone else for that matter. The removal of comm buoys is almost always a prelude to attack."

"Frak," cursed Tigh, then turned to Edmundson, "turn this thing around! We're going back to _Galactica_."

Then to the _Madrid_: "Do we have any communications channels left at all?"

"We can still send transmissions, but it could take weeks for them to reach anyone. Effectively, we're on our own, colonel."

The colonel muttered another curse and then spoke in a more measured tone, "As soon as this conversation is over, I'm going to put all of my pilots on alert status. I suggest you do the same. The Cylons won't hold back and neither can we—"

Tigh was interrupted when the DRADIS alarms indicated two new contacts. Suddenly, Colonel Tigh was very aware of the fact that he wasn't wearing a pressure suit. It only took DRADIS moments to identify the contacts as Cylon raiders and Lee "Apollo" Adama was quickly on the comm, ordering an intercept.

"Don't commit the entire CAP," Tigh barked into the headset, "they're only scouts."

* * *

"Acknowledged," said Apollo. Then: "Hammerhead, Gonzo, on my wing. Everyone else, stay with _Galactica_."

"Apollo," another voice came in over the comm, "this is Bravo One, joining your attack."

"Copy that, Bravo One," said Apollo. Glancing down at the DRADIS display in his cockpit, Apollo saw the raiders change course, moving to intercept _Madrid's _Bravo Flight. The raiders were still too far away for visual contact.

"Be advised Bravo One, Cylon raiders are moving to intercept you."

"Thank you Apollo, we are aware," the flight lead coolly replied. "Bravo Two, weapons free."

Out of the cockpit window, Apollo saw two dim flashes as Bravo Two unleashed a pair of missiles. Despite Cylon attempts to maneuver, both ships quickly met their ends, bursting into clouds of fire and gore, much to the satisfaction of Bravo Flight. With the Cylons destroyed so far outside their effective weapons range, the victory seemed far from fair, but it did give Apollo some hope as to how the coming battle would proceed.

"All hostiles scrapped," announced Bravo One, "returning to _Madrid_."

"Were you watching that?" Gonzo asked over a closed channel, "Those raiders must have been 800 klicks out!"

"Cut the chatter Gonzo," said Apollo, "resume formation on Galactica."

* * *

"Dammit, I need to know my options and I need to know them now!"

Colonel Tigh had been unrelentingly furious since his return to the _Galactica_, his bulging eyes and tight jaw would have been proof enough of that even if he had not been shouting.

All of the lights in the CIC were now flickering intermittently, doing nothing to improve the colonel's mood.

"The only viable option is a full reboot," said the lead engineer from the _Madrid, _a lieutenant named Reid.

"I'm becoming more and more doubtful that a reboot will work," said Gaeta. The lieutenant's exasperation was plain in his voice. "It seems more likely now that a reboot will allow the virus to take full control over all systems."

"Frak!" the colonel shouted, then paused to glare at the flickering lights. "You're telling me that the Cylons are knocking on the front door and we're supposed to just sit on our hands?"

"Colonel," started Gaeta, "we still—"

"No!" the Colonel shouted, louder than he had been already, "that is not an option. Lieutenant Gaeta, what's the current damage and how much worse is it going to get?"

"For the moment, navigation and fire control are too unreliable to use. We've managed to set up barriers that should prevent the virus from being able to gain complete control of those areas but they will only last three hours, three and a half at most. DRADIS will be inoperable in two."

"Then we'll be blind." Tigh shook his head.

DRADIS chose that moment to signal new contacts entering the system. Tigh cursed under his breath as he saw their shear number. The Cylons weren't holding back this time. Worse, they had practically jumped in right on top of them.

* * *

Sitting in the cockpit of his viper, Apollo suddenly saw dozens, maybe hundreds, of FTL flashes as countless raiders jumped in, flooding DRADIS with red blips. He even had to break to the left as a raider jumped directly in front of him.

"Weapons free," ordered Apollo, "fire at will!"

The space around the _Galactica_ was thick with orange Colonial and blue Cylon tracers as fighters engaged in point blank dog fights. Nimble vipers and Systems Alliance fighters tore swaths through Cylon raiders, their missiles and shells rending apart the offending ships and exposing their guts to cold space.

But too many vipers were being caught in the firestorm created by the opponents who had thrown the disciplined viper jocks' ranks into disarray. Amid the chaos, Apollo stole a glance at his DRADIS display, long enough to see that more raiders were constantly jumping in, while the _Madrid _and _Galactica's_ fighters would receive no reinforcements.

Another swarm of raiders was covering the _Madrid_. The cruiser's kinetic barriers were flaring from so many missile strikes that no part of the ship was visible beneath the iridescent blue shell. GARDIAN lasers made short work of the Cylon raiders but not quickly enough to make a difference, as two raiders jumped in to replace every raider destroyed.

* * *

While Colonel Tigh was busy giving orders to deal with the seemingly endless influx of raiders, Kaidan Alenko caught Gaeta as he was returning to his console.

"What was that about?" asked Kaidan.

"What?" asked Gaeta.

"You were about to suggest something and the colonel cut you short. What were you going to say?"

"I was," Gaeta started haltingly, not bothering to make eye contact, "going to suggest that we scuttle the ship. I've suggested it before and the colonel had the same response then."

Gaeta then hurried away before Kaidan could reply.

"He's lying," said Garrus, once Gaeta was out of earshot.

"Maybe he is," said Kaidan, then looked back at the DRADIS monitor. The display may have been antiquated by Alliance standards but, nonetheless, it told a clear story. "But for the moment we seem to have bigger concerns."

Colonel Tigh could do nothing but stare at the DRADIS monitor, watching the green blips disappear as more red blips appeared. The chatter of overwhelmed pilots over the comm grew increasingly frantic.

_Galactica's_ acting XO, Major Aaron Kelly, broke Tigh's attention away from DRADIS when he handed him the phone. "It's the _Madrid_," he said.

"_Galactica_ actual, go ahead," said Tigh.

"_Galactica_, we have a serious problem. Our GARDIAN systems are overwhelmed; we simply can't keep this up much longer."

"What? Are you going to abandon us?"

The eyes of everyone within earshot turned to the colonel.

"Colonel, once our GARDIAN lasers overheat there will simply be nothing we can do."

Tigh shook his head. "Do what you have to do," he said gruffly, before handing back the phone to Kelly. A moment later: "Give me a damage report. How many hits have we taken?"

"Damage control reports no direct hits," said Kelly, "the Toasters don't seem to think we're a threat."

_Doesn't make any sense,_ thought Tigh,_ if they had wanted to destroy us they would have used their nukes by now. They must want to take us alive or at least get that Cylon bitch back. This bloodbath is frakking pointless._

"Recall all fighters," ordered Tigh.

"Sir?" asked the acting XO.

"You heard me. Recall those fighters and tell the _Madrid_ she's welcome to bug out."

* * *

On receiving his orders, Apollo was relieved to be going back the _Galactica_ but unsure of how to cover the return to the _Galactica_ without suppressing fire from her flak batteries. However, the captain was well-aware that time was not on his side.

"Hammerhead, Kat, on me. All other fighters: commence emergency landings."

Dodging some raiders and blasting through others, Apollo made his way to the threshold of the port landing pod where several pilots were already attempting their landings. Apollo winced as a viper erupted in flames after being struck on final approach by a raider that was immediately lost in the chaos.

What followed grew even more chaotic as the three vipers struggled to cover the survivors' escapes while preventing any raiders from entering the flight pod. When there were no more vipers left to cover, the three frantically maneuvered inside the flight pod and only just avoided crashing into the grounded vipers as they conducted barely controlled crash-landings.

The flight pod began to retract into the hull even before the final viper had cleared the threshold, but one raider still managed to squeeze through. The raider attempted a strafing run but only clipped the wing of one viper before crashing into what would have been the forward opening, had the landing pod been extended.

After an explosion and a shower of sparks, the running lights illuminating the landing pod went black, leaving the pilots in darkness.

* * *

"What the frak just happened?" demanded Colonel Tigh as the explosion reverberated throughout _Galactica_, making the already flickering lights even more erratic.

Major Kelly was already getting damage control on the line.

"A raider slipped through as the flight pod was retracting," answered Gaeta, "it doesn't look like it made it out."

"Damage control reports that flight pod hydraulics are offline," said Kelly, "they can't complete the sequence."

"You mean they can't pressurize the flight pod?" asked Tigh.

Kelly nodded.

"Then our pilots are stuck in there," muttered Saul.

"Sir," started Lieutenant Alenko, finally seeing a chance to prove useful, "our armor can withstand a vacuum. If you can get us into the flight pod, we'll get your people out."

Garrus seemed taken aback at having been volunteered but said nothing.

"Alright," said Colonel Tigh gruffly, before turning to one of his marines, "Sergeant Fischer, escort Lieutenant Alenko, and anyone who wants to go with him, to port flight pod service access. Major Kelly, have a medic join them at the airlock. We may have some wounded pilots. Now hurry it up."

"I'm coming too," said Liara, catching up to Kaidan and Garrus at the door.

"What kind of combat experience do you have?" asked Garrus, skeptically.

"I know how to fend for myself," said Liara, "and I feel that my biotic talents may prove useful."

"You're coming then," said Kaidan.

Garrus seized Kaidan by the shoulder as he started through the door's threshold, "You're making a mistake. She's a scientist, a civilian. Not a soldier."

Liara, awkwardly, began to protest but Alenko was the first to speak.

"Technically," started Kaidan, "you're also a civilian." Seeing that Garrus was ready to continue arguing, Alenko cut him off before he could start, "I've made my decision. You're only wasting our time and the time of those trapped pilots."

After a pause, Garrus relented and let go of Kaidan's shoulder.

* * *

Tigh turned to Kelly once Garrus and Kaidan had left the CIC, "Put more marines on guard at the Cylon's cell and do it quietly. I don't want the Alliance—"

The colonel glanced at the DRADIS monitor as he was speaking and immediately had to do a double-take. All of the raiders had broken away from _Galactica _and were converging on the _Madrid_.

"Why is the _Madrid_ still here?" demanded Tigh, "tell them to get the frak out of here!"

"They say they're surrounded on all sides," said Duala, "they're trying to cut a path with their lasers but there are too many raiders."

_That's right,_ remembered Tigh,_ these Alliance ships can't just jump out, they need an unobstructed course. And our fire control systems are offline, there's not a gods-damned thing we can do. _"Frak," muttered Tigh under his breath.

"Two new contacts," announced Gaeta. Tigh looked back to the DRADIS monitor, hoping for good news, he was disappointed. "Transponders confirmed," said Gaeta, then, "Cylon baseships, they're firing missiles."

Dozens of missiles fired from both baseships in rapid succession. Once the first wave of missiles shattered what was left of the _Madrid's _kinetic barriers, subsequent waves crippled the ship's weapons and engines, leaving it adrift and defenseless.

"_Madrid's_ gone dark," said Dualla, "I'm getting no signal." Tigh looked to the galley where the engineers from the Madrid were gathered, all of them apprehensive.

"Colonel, one of the baseships is moving toward us," said Gaeta, "I'm picking up heavy raiders leaving its launch bays."

"Those will be the boarding parties," said the colonel, "track them and direct our marines to intercept. What about the raiders?"

"The raiders are setting up perimeters around the _Madrid _and our ship."

"Captain's not going to let them take him alive," said one of the _Madrid's_ engineers.

"Colonel," Gaeta started again, "I'm detecting a massive power surge from the _Madrid,_ both baseships and raiders are now moving away."

"He's overloading the element zero core," said another engineer.

"Contacts emerging from _Madrid_," said Gaeta, "transports and fighter escorts."

"I'm getting a transmission," said Dualla, "from one of the transports."

"Put it over the speakers," said Tigh.

"_Galactica,_ this is Commander Harun, we're falling back but will ensure that help gets here as soon as possible."

_Not Captain Dietrich, _realized Tigh, _that means he's either dead or stayed behind._

The scattering raiders provided the needed space for _Madrid's_ survivors to escape into FTL before the aft section of the ship exploded, followed by secondary explosions as flames from the engines met the mass accelerator's magazine. The resulting blasts propelled huge chunks of debris that had been _Madrid's_ outer hull, obliterating the raiders that hadn't made enough distance while inflicting massive damage to the nearby baseship.

Glancing back to the _Madrid_'s engineers, Tigh saw relief mixed with fear and felt like he should have said something to them yet couldn't think of anything. Comfort and sympathy were two things the colonel knew he was ill-equipped to provide.

"Give me a report Lieutenant Gaeta," ordered Tigh.

"The baseship closest to the _Madrid_ has suffered heavy damage, the other remains intact. Heavy raiders are still en route. They appear to be moving toward our emergency and maintenance access points."

Tigh nodded, "Major Kelly, inform the marines."

* * *

After his jarring crash landing, Apollo had watched with surprise as the raider slipped through the aft opening of the flight pod only to crash into the far end in an explosion of fire and gore, aborting the pressurization of the flight pod and leaving it in darkness, lit only by the running lights of the vipers occupying it.

Apollo quickly considered his options. Now that _Galactica_ was completely defenseless, the Cylons would only do one of two things, destroy or board. Because the Cylons could have destroyed the _Galactica_ already, it made the most sense that they would attempt to board.

"So, Apollo, what are we going to do?" asked Hotdog over the comm.

"The Cylons are going to be boarding soon," reasoned Apollo, "we need to get out of these birds."

"Then what?" another pilot chimed in, "This landing bay is unpressurized and we're not exactly equipped for EVA."

"We'll make do," said Apollo, "feel free to stay here and wait for the Cylons." Apollo didn't wait for a reply, "I'm going to the emergency airlock access, if you're coming, have your sidearm ready."

* * *

Sergeant Hadrian and her detachment of marines, a mixed bag of soldiers from both the _Galactica_ and the_ Madrid_, had taken cover behind a hastily assembled barricade of crates and boxes. Only ten meters in front of them was the maintenance access hatch the Cylons would be coming through. Major Kelly had just confirmed over shortwave radio that the Cylon heavy raider would be docking in seconds.

The sergeant took a final look at her firearm. The weapon was one of several rifles the _Madrid's _marines had brought with them. Hadrian wondered how effective it would be against centurions. Similarly, she wondered how the body armor dispensed by the same marines would stand up against the centurion's cannons, although she had no plans to test that herself.

A clang reverberated throughout the steel corridor, announcing the heavy raider's arrival. Hadrian and the other marines stared at the bulkhead door down the barrels of their rifles.

Ominously, the handle on the bulkhead door began to turn, faster than any human could have spun it.

"Charge and lock," ordered a squad leader from the _Madrid, _as if anyone needed to be told.

Seconds later, the door burst open as a centurion shoved it aside while firing at the marines with the cannon on its other arm.

When the high caliber shell struck her kinetic shield, Sergeant Hadrian resisted the urge to take cover and instead fired a burst of armor piercing rounds that punched through the centurion's armored plating. A secondary explosion, perhaps caused by hitting the magazine for the centurion's cannons, tore off the plating on the left side of the machine's torso, exposing servos, control clusters and a steel endoskeleton.

Damaged but relentless, the centurion staggered forward and opened fire in a sweeping motion with the cannon on its right arm even as its left arm hung uselessly. Shells were deflected by the shields of each marine, a barrage that would have killed the soldiers had they been armored with only flack jackets.

Another marine finished the centurion with a burst that turned its head into a geyser of sparks. The next centurion to pass through the bulkhead door shoved its predecessor aside and opened fire, this one concentrating on a single marine rather than using the sweeping spray of the previous centurion. The centurion's high caliber shells quickly cut through the shields of its target while subsequent rounds perforated the marine's armor before he could take cover.

The remaining marines quickly obliterated the centurion as a medic from the _Madrid_ pulled the injured marine a safe distance from the action. More centurions charged through the door to be destroyed in similar fashion.

With the choke point secure, Sergeant Hadrian pulled away from the barricade and moved in a half-crouch to where the medic was tending the injured marine, whom Hadrian saw to be one of her men, Private First Class Kelso.

The medic had opened Kelso's armor and pulled up his shirt to tend the wound, which was not nearly so grievous as Hadrian had feared.

"The armor absorbed most of the impact," said the medic as he sterilized the wound and used some strange implement to retrieve the bullet. With that done, the medic retrieved a packet from his belt and removed a glob of gel from it then smoothed it over the wound.

Hadrian watched with wonder as the bleeding stopped and the flesh quickly began to stitch itself back together.

"What was that?" she asked, referring to the gel.

"Medi-gel," replied the medic, this time turning to face Hadrian, "a medical marvel really. It's saved more lives than—watch out!"

As the medic lifted his pistol, Hadrian whirled about to see a centurion lunge over the barricade and eviscerate a shocked marine with bladed finger tips, splattering its own armor in blood and gore.

A well placed burst from Hadrian's rifle rent apart the centurion's torso and sent it clattering to the ground but others quickly followed, bounding over the barricade and engaging marines at point-blank range where their shields could do no good.

"Fall back!" shouted Hadrian, as she stood and turned another centurion into a seven foot-tall inferno.

Sergeant Hadrian glanced over her shoulder to see the medic helping a staggering Private Kelso to safety while warding off centurions with his pistol but turned back to the fray and found herself staring into the rhythmically sweeping red eye of a centurion. Hadrian barely felt the cold, steel fingers that opened up her abdomen as she stumbled to the floor.

* * *

"We just lost contact with Sergeant Hadrian's checkpoint," said Kelly, setting the phone down into its console.

"Frak," said Tigh, as he shook his head. _That's another access point for the Cylons._

"The remaining checkpoints report that the Cylons have changed tactics. They're attacking with claws now."

"Shields are no use at that range," said the _Madrid's_ Lieutenant Reid with a gasp, "we need to warn the other checkpoints."

"Do it," ordered Tigh as he returned his gaze to the DRADIS monitor while Major Kelly had Petty Officer Dualla deliver the news. The story the DRADIS monitor told was another one Colonel Tigh didn't want to hear. Heavy raiders were docking, disgorging their deadly cargoes and then leaving to be replaced by other heavy raiders with the same mission.

_Only the gods know how man centurions are already on this ship, _thought Tigh,_ let alone how many are coming._

"Lieutenant Reid," started Tigh, "I want you to get back with the engineers, keep trying to figure out how to stop this damned virus."

As if beckoned, the lights flickered for several seconds before finally steadying themselves while another console, this one at the rear of the CIC, emitted an irridescent glow before exploding. This time the colonel didn't even flinch.

"But, colonel," Reid protested, "we've tried everything. We just don't have—"

"I know full well what you don't have," murmured Colonel Tigh, "Just get me whatever you can. Whether it's keeping DRADIS online or restoring fire control."

"Yes, sir," said Reid before stalking up to the galley with the other engineers.

"Give me a sit-rep on how far in the centurions have gotten," ordered Tigh, broaching the topic he hadn't wanted to discuss in front of Reid.

Kelly nodded and brought forward the _Galactica's_ deck plans.

"The Cylons have control of these two access points. Both incursions are reportedly pushing toward midships."

"Just like I was expecting," muttered Tigh. "They want that skinjob. We have to buy time until reinforcements come, keep her from them. It's the only way we're going to get through this."

"We could bring her to CIC," suggested Kelly, "and strengthen the guard here."

"And risk letting these outsiders see her? Not a chance."

Colonel Tigh then placed his finger on the midships junction corridor, "We'll head them off here. If they take this corridor, they have access to the whole frakking ship and we've lost anyway.

"Send every available marine detail to this position. And tell the guards at the Cylon's cell to shoot her if their position is compromised."

* * *

Sergeant Fischer, still unaccustomed to his new Systems Alliance issue armor by his awkward gait, led Lieutenant Alenko, Garrus, Liara and a pair of marines down a winding series of _Galactica's_ high-arched corridors. Alenko silently wondered how long it took Fischer to memorize the sprawling network of passages.

As the ragtag squad walked, they began to hear the punctuated snaps of distant gunfire, and could only hope things were going their way.

At length, the corridor ended in a T-junction. Ahead stood two anxious members of _Galactica's_ crew, a man and a women. They wore the yellow and black armors of the survivor line, marking them as deck-crew, in contrast to the obsidian line armors that had been given to _Galactica's _marines.

"Lieutenant Alenko?" asked one of the crewmen, a swarthy man with black hair, "I'm Chief Petty Officer Tyrol, Major Kelly told me to bring my medic and wait here."

"I'm Petty Officer Seelix," said a dark-haired woman, whom Alenko assumed to be the medic, "if we're here to get the trapped pilots out we've wasted enough time already."

"You're right," said Alenko, "lead the way."

Chief Tyrol took the lead, flanked by one of _Galactica's_ marines. After walking down a short corridor, the Chief stopped at the flight pod's service access bulkhead.

"Alright," said Alenko, "everyone suit up and prep for zero-g."

* * *

Once inside the landing pod, Alenko's team swept searchlights across its interior and saw nearly a dozen crash-landed vipers while the gore and wreckage from the raider that had dared a strafing run on the grounded vipers hung noiselessly in the vacuum.

"We're too late," said Tyrol, moving his searchlight from viper to viper, "all of these birds are empty."

"Then no one was injured," said Alenko, glad for the good news.

"Or at least they weren't left behind," said Garrus, augmenting the assessment, "if they're lucky, they've avoided the firefights."

"Kelly, Alenko," Kaidan heard the major over his comm, "actual wants a sitrep on the flight pod."

"This is Alenko, all vipers appear to have landed successfully, pilots MIA. Presumed, to have left the flight pod through another access point."

"Understood, stand by for new orders," said Kelly. After a short pause: "report to midships junction ASAP. Cylons have—"

Major Kelly was cut off as static overwhelmed the transmission.

_Jammed_, realized Alenko, _hopefully that last bit wasn't crucial._ With the comm out, Alenko motioned his squad to move back to the airlock.

* * *

Kelly put down the phone, his expression one of exasperation, "Cylons are jamming interior communications now."

"It's true sir," said Dualla from her station, "even the short-waves aren't working."

"Frak," muttered Tigh. "They didn't do that last time they boarded. Why now?"

"Must be a new trick, sir," said Kelly.

"Or they're using a device that would have taken up too much space on a single heavy raider," suggested Gaeta, "before they only used one. This time, they've used at least a half dozen, giving them more room for any specialized tools they might be using."

"Then let's hope they don't have any other 'specialized tools,'" said Tigh, not bothering to hide his irritation.

"Colonel Tigh," said Dualla, "I received one last communique. The forward crew quarters checkpoint has been overrun."

The colonel's eyes bulged with rage.

"Then the frakking Cylons are coming here! Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

"The transmission was garbled," said Dualla, "I only just deciphered it."

"Lock down the CIC!" ordered Tigh, "I want a weapon in every hand five minutes ago."

* * *

The preparations to defend the CIC proceeded quickly, as marines locked and barred the various entrances and crewmen armed themselves however they could. The luckiest were able to secure assault rifles or shotguns lent by the _Madrid's_ marines. Others made do with pistols from the _Madrid_, assault rifles from the CIC's gun locker or, at worst, pistols from the same gun locker, which were only effective against centurions when loaded with explosive rounds, of which the CIC gun locker had none.

Finally, all of the CIC's crew and the marines guarding them had taken cover behind the rows of consoles furthest separated from the three entrances, guns trained on each of those entrances.

Simultaneously, the handles on each of the doors began to turn only to be halted when the bars jammed through the handles struck the ground.

_Frakking great,_ thought Tigh, seeing that the Cylons controlled all doors to the bridge. After attempting to force the doors open for several minutes, all three Cylons relented.

"They're probably planting charges," said Kelly from where he crouched beside Tigh.

The colonel nodded.

"Everyone get ready. The Cylons will be coming soon!"

As Kelly predicted, charges blew the locks and the doors were promptly thrown open by centurions. Streaming in from all three doors at once, the centurions overwhelmed the CIC's crew with a hail of shells, killing several with the first volley, since only a handful of the crewmen had the benefit of Systems Alliance armor.

After only squeezing off a single burst from his assault rifle before having to take cover again, Tigh heard a thud and turned to see Major Kelly stumble against the wall of consoles beside him before slumping down to the floor, his chest punctured by several gaping wounds and his eyes frozen wide open.

Colonel Tigh fought to break his gaze from Kelly's accusing eyes as the steady thumping of Cylon guns echoed throughout the CIC, too often punctuated by cries of anguish, pain and shock while far too few guns responded in turn. Finally breaking his gaze from the fallen major, Tigh saw several other slumped forms along the row of consoles he had taken cover behind, men and women wearing the blue coats and jackets of officers, the green fatigues of petty officers or Systems Alliance armors.

Others, still alive, were ducking behind the consoles waiting for their chance to take a shot or praying for an escape.

Yet all of them, living and dead, had the same, damned accusing eyes.

"Colonel Tigh," someone began in a smug voice.

_I know that voice,_ thought the colonel, who, breaking from his reverie, also realized that the gunfire had stopped.

"Please stand so I can see you."

Defeated, Colonel Tigh set down his assault rifle and stood. Looking down on the rows of consoles beneath him, Tigh saw blood splattered bodies laying on top of consoles or strewn beneath them while the living clutched weapons with white-knuckled grips, prayed and, Colonel Tigh was sure of it, blamed him for everything that had gone wrong.

Looking past his men, Tigh saw Aaron Doral, or at least another Cylon of the same model, standing by the DRADIS console while at least a dozen centurions were arrayed behind him. The skinjob was brown-haired, smartly dressed, and entirely too sure of himself.

"That's better," said Doral, "now that we have this chance to speak I would like to discuss, with you, the terms of your surrender."

The colonel's eyes bulged in anger at the man's—the machine's audacity.

_No one is taking the old man's ship. Not on my watch._

Without a word, Colonel Tigh drew his sidearm and put a bullet in Doral's forehead, granting the Cylon a third eye, then relished the shocked expression on the skinjob's death-frozen face even as shells from the centurion's cannons ripped through him.


	7. Chapter 7

The Eight sat uncomfortably on the edge of her cot, her taut muscles ready for whatever might be about to happen. This eight was the second to be called Sharon Valerii by the crew of the _Galactica_, and, having arrived with Helo in the wake of her predecessor's failed assassination attempt on Commander Adama, she was promptly thrown into a cell that had been specifically designed to hold Cylon captives.

Sharon knew that a great deal had been going on over the past few days but she had only been able to glean scraps of information by eavesdropping on her guards.

She had heard murmurs about encountering humans from another part of the galaxy, and even some nonhumans. The new armors and weapons sported by her guards lent support to the murmurs. Usually, Helo would have answered Sharon's questions but he hadn't come in days.

Then today, Sharon had heard muffled explosions and gunfire. The guards wouldn't answer her questions but Sharon knew the _Galactica_ was under attack and that the suspicious Colonials would probably find some way to blame her for it.

_And this time, Helo won't be here to vouch for me._

So Sharon waited, knowing that, sooner rather than later, someone would come for her.

* * *

As time passed the gunfire drew closer. Sharon, knowing that her time was running out, watched her guards intently. They seemed to be growing more and more nervous.

After a brief conversation Sharon couldn't make out, the two guards stepped cautiously outside and the muffled gunfire of a centurions' cannons pierced even Sharon's cell.

One of the guards soon scrambled back into the holding area and leveled his assault rifle at Sharon. Unsurprised, Sharon threw herself to the ground as the burst shattered the supposedly bullet-proof glass of her cell's windows. Sharon had carefully landed on her side in order to avoid harming her unborn child.

From her vantage point on the floor, Sharon stared up at the broken windows, expecting the guard to finish the job. Instead she heard more gunshots and an explosion followed by the rapid footsteps of a centurion and the sickening sound of its metal claws rending apart flesh before the guard's limp body was flung violently against the wire mesh that had previously supported the glass, nearly breaking through.

The only sound that remained was the sweeping hum of the centurion's red eye. Sharon stood cautiously to see the victorious, blood-splattered centurion impassively staring down at her.

Three human-form Cylons stepped into the holding area: a Three, wearing the chronic sneer that seemed to define the line, a Four, who took Sharon in with his cold, measuring gaze and an Eight, the only one of the three who seemed genuinely relieved to see her.

"She's alive," said the Eight, delight spreading across her face.

"I'm going to assume you're talking about her child," said Three, frowning at the Eight.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," demanded Sharon.

"You?" said Three mockingly, "you're a traitor. Your voice counts for nothing now."

"Centurion, secure the prisoner," said Four. Not breaking his gaze from Sharon, he continued, "Now that we have what we came for we should arm the weapon and depart."

"I'll see to it myself," said Three, before casting a scornful glance at Sharon and making her exit.

Turning away from the human-form Cylons, Sharon watched the towering centurion open the cell door and beckon her to follow. Knowing that any struggle could endanger her child, Sharon went quietly but kept her eyes open.

* * *

Lee Adama moved in a half-crouch as he led his pilots down _Galactica_'s now intermittently lit corridors, sidearm drawn.

Although Lee knew from experience that the weapons could barely dent a centurion's armor, he also knew that perception counted for a lot, and appearing ready for a fight would be crucial for maintaining the morale of his terrified pilots, who were used to fighting Cylons in the cockpit of a viper, not inside _Galactica's _steel corridors, which were supposed to be their safe haven from the toasters.

Hearing movement ahead, Lee motioned for his pilots to stop and ducked into an alcove in the wall, as did his other pilots. This corridor had no crates or pallets to take cover behind and everyone felt painfully exposed, especially when the lights in the corridor flickered and died.

"Frak," Apollo heard Hotdog mutter, "how are we supposed to see the frakking toasters now?"

"You'll see the red eye," said Kat, one of a small number of pilots who had gone up against centurions before.

"Cut the chatter," ordered Apollo as he continued to stare down the corridor, listening intently.

After a long moment of listening to the footsteps steadily approach, Apollo saw the light cone from a rifle-mounted flashlight emerge from the bend in the corridor and sighed with relief.

Then, as a figure emerged following the light, one of Apollo's pilots opened fire. The muzzle flash and blue shimmer as the bullet impacted a shield illuminated the corridor for an instant, long enough for the two groups to see that each was human.

"Cease fire!" came a shout from down the corridor, "we're friendlies over here!"

The voice sounded familiar but Apollo couldn't place it.

"Understood," responded Apollo, before rounding on the pilot who had fired, "Listen Puppet, you don't shoot, you don't so much as think about shooting unless you can see the toaster's red-frakking eye, you got that?"

"That may not be the best idea, captain," said one of the men from the group Puppet had fired on, "there are some skinjobs with the centurions. We've already killed two of them."

As the marine drew closer, the lights flickered on for a moment before going out again. However, they stayed on long enough for Apollo to recognize Corporal Venner, who had helped him smuggle Laura Roslin off the _Galactica_ weeks ago after her, in Lee Adama's eyes, wrongful imprisonment by his own father.

"Nothing's ever simple," said Lee, "What's the sit-rep corporal?"

"I wish I knew, captain," said Corporal Venner, then he motioned to the four figures behind him, "We were part of a detail guarding service airlock eight, Gunnery Chief Cyrano's unit."

"From the _Madrid_?" asked Lee, not recognizing the rank.

Venner nodded, "Yes, sir. We received orders to abandon the airlock and reinforce midships."

"That's pretty vague," interjected Kat.

"Communications were cut off before Petty Officer Dualla could finish giving the order, explained Venner, "we headed in that direction just the same. Hoping that if we followed the gunfire we'd get to where command wanted us. We ran into a big group of centurions and a couple skinjobs on the way. That's when we got separated from the main group. Cylons depressurized the compartment between us so we couldn't rejoin. Now we have to take the long way to get back to the fight."

"Not anymore," said Apollo, "you have new orders. We need to get to CIC and figure out what's going on in this ship. And if you and your men have any weapons to spare, I'd rather not go up against centurions with this thing," Lee raised his sidearm.

"Of course," said Venner, then reached behind his back to retrieve a block-like object and handed it to Apollo, who started when a barrel and stock extended from the block, giving it the appearance of a shotgun. The other marines with Corporal Venner similarly dispensed their spare weapons amongst Apollo's pilots, so that none of them had to rely on their sidearms anymore.

* * *

When Kaidan Alenko's team arrived at the midships junction corridor, it was in the aftermath of the Cylon's passage, who had left the ground littered with the corpses of marines and pieces of centurions.

Kaidan could tell why Major Kelly had wanted this corridor held. Apart from the halls connected to the junction, several ladders and stairwells provided access to _Galactica's _other decks. Yet he was surprised the Cylons hadn't left a rear guard.

_Either they don't have enough centurions to spare, they think they can retake this junction with ease, or they just don't need it. Hopefully, the first is true._

"Frak," said Sergeant Fischer, examining all of the exits, "the toasters could have gone anywhere from here."

"What's the most sensitive area accessible from here?" asked Garrus, "That would probably be their target."

"I think I know where they went," said Chief Tyrol, and he was quickly ascending one of the ladders.

"Wait up!" shouted Seelix as she scrambled up the ladder after the chief, followed shortly thereafter by Garrus and the others, who were slower to react to the chief's sudden move.

* * *

Captain Lee Adama led an assortment of pilots and marines he had picked up along the way to the CIC. The situation in the _Galactica_ was worse than he had feared and Lee's spirit flagged a bit more with each fallen checkpoint his team passed by.

When Lee heard gunfire as his team traveled along a corridor leading directly to the CIC he threw caution aside and sprinted to his destination as the other pilots and marines struggled to catch up.

The gunfire ceased as Lee approached the door to the CIC, which stood ajar. Peering inside, Lee counted over a dozen centurions and one skinjob standing amongst the CIC's flickering lights. They were all facing several rows of consoles on the other side of the CIC. Lee started at seeing the bodies of many people he knew sprawled on top of the consoles but was relieved to see that Dee wasn't among them.

"Colonel Tigh," said the skinjob, "Please, stand so I can see you."

Lee silently moved into the CIC and took cover behind one of the fire control consoles then motioned for the others to follow him. Kat and Corporal Venner were the first ones through.

A hesitant Colonel Tigh stood and faced the skinjob while more of Lee's hastily assembled troops silently filed in through the door and took cover.

_Just buy me some more time colonel, _thought Lee.

Corporal Venner seemed to share Lee's apprehension, and he thumbed down one after another of his prayer beads as his lips moved soundlessly.

"That's better," said the skinjob, gloating, "now that we have this chance to speak I would like to discuss, with you, the terms of your surrender."

Without hesitating Colonel Tigh drew his pistol and fired, causing the skinjob's brains to burst out through the back of his head. Before Lee could react, shells from the centurions cannons riddled Saul Tigh's chest and the colonel staggered backward against the wall before slumping down to the floor.

"Weapons free!" Lee shouted.

From their positions above the centurions, pilots and marines armed with Systems Alliance weapons unleashed a firestorm on their unsuspecting foes, decimating the centurion's ranks. Sensing their opportunity, the suppressed CIC crewmen added their own firepower to the onslaught and the centurions were quickly reduced to smoldering piles of metal and circuitry.

When the last centurion had fallen, the fighters on each side of the CIC shouted and waved their weapons, exhilarated by victory. Others, simply glad that the immediate crisis was over, sighed with relief or saw to the wounded.

Lee Adama stepped into the DRADIS pit, certain that the battle was far from over and haunted by the sight of Colonel Tigh's corpse.

_How am I going to tell my father?_

A relieved Petty Officer Dualla met Lee by the DRADIS console and hugged him tightly.

"I'm glad you're okay, Dee," whispered Lee. Dee only nodded silently, her eyes were brimming with unshed tears. When Apollo let Dee go, he saw Lieutenant Gaeta standing a few steps away, still holding his sidearm.

"Where is Major Kelly?" asked Lee, already too aware of the acting CO's fate.

"KIA," said Gaeta, "you're in command now, sir."

* * *

Garrus hurried along the corridor after Petty Officer Seelix who, in turn, was pursuing Chief Tyrol. As Garrus followed, he had to step over a broken barricade of overturned crates and corpses mangled by either the shells or claws of the invading centurions.

_What was this checkpoint doing here? We're far from any of the vital areas _Galacita's _command identified. If they are withholding information it could cost us the battle and all of our lives with it._

Garrus slowed his pace when Chief Tyrol stopped to peek around a bend in the corridor. Listening carefully, Garrus heard the distinctive sound of hydraulically-assisted footsteps that would only be made by the attacking centurions.

Seconds later Lieutenant Alenko and the rest of the squad arrived.

"What do we have?" asked Kaidan, quietly.

"I count three centurions," said Tyrol, "they're standing outside the cell, could be more of them inside."

"A cell?" started Garrus, not bothering to hide the agitation in his voice, "what do they want with your prisoners?"

"Who the hell knows why the toasters do anything?" muttered Sergeant Fischer, who then quickly turned away from Garrus' icy stare.

"You're lying," accused Garrus, rounding on the sergeant.

"Will you can it?" asked Chief Tyrol in a harsh whisper, "They're coming this way!"

With a final glare directed at the sergeant, Garrus ceased his interrogation.

_They must have a Cylon prisoner, _Garrus realized,_ why else would the Cylons bother with this remote part of the ship?_

The squad hurriedly took cover behind the barricade that had already been overrun by the Cylons once before, trigger fingers hovering nervously.

"How many of them are there again?" Alenko asked Tyrol.

"I counted three centurions, at least one humanoid Cylon. I think—"

Tyrol stopped short when a centurion rounded the corridor, giving the crew from the _Normandy_ their first look at one of the seven foot-tall steel monstrosities. The centurion, its armor splattered with the blood of previous victims, immediately noticed the renewed guard on the barricade and quickly converted its articulated hands into cannons, but not quickly enough. A burst from one of the Galactica's marines removed the centurion's right arm while a well-placed shot from Garrus' high-powered rifle tore through the centurion's head and emerged out the other side, accompanied by a blast of sparks and circuitry.

After a tense moment, no more centurions came down the corridor.

"They're not coming," said one of _Galactica_'s marines, relieved.

"Yeah, and maybe that's because they already have what they came for," said Chief Tyrol as he quickly stood.

Garrus attempted to seize the chief so he could find out just what was going on but Tyrol had already vaulted over the barricade and was again charging down the corridor. His mandibles locked together in consternation, Garrus leapt over the barricade and rushed after his quarry.

Soon, Garrus was close enough to seize the chief but both of them came under a hale of gunfire after rounding the bend in the corridor, casting blue light along the dim corridor as their kinetic shields absorbed the impacts. Knowing that the shields could only handle so much, both men took cover behind a pallet stacked with metal lockers. The lights along this corridor had gone out completely, leaving only muzzle flashes for lighting.

Recognizing the imminent danger, Garrus shelved his questions and, after communicating his intentions to Tyrol with hand signals, dashed across the corridor into an alcove as the chief provided covering fire, shooting blindly but with enough intensity to suppress the centurions long enough for Garrus to make it across safely.

Tyrol continued to fire, diverting the centurions' attentions from Garrus, buying time for the former C-Sec officer to line up his sights and take a shot that turned one of the centurions into a pile of smoldering metal scrap.

The machines answered with a renewed onslaught, forcing the two back into cover. Then Garrus heard the sounds of a biotic discharge and of one heavy object crashing into another. Then: silence.

Looking behind himself, Garrus saw Liara, whose form still shone an iridescent blue, the afterglow of a biotic discharge. The remnant of the squad stood behind her, awed by the display of power.

_So she proved useful after all,_ thought Garrus, though he didn't bother voicing his thoughts.

Cautiously, Garrus turned on his omni-tool's searchlight and began moving down the dark corridor, followed closely by the others who used weapon-mounted lights that provided less illumination.

The squad's lights laid bare the destruction that had so recently occurred. Parts of centurions were scattered about the corridor along with the bodies of two people wearing civilian clothes who had carried sidearms.

_These must be humanoid Cylons,_ thought Garrus,_ or skinjobs as the _Galactica's_ people call them._

A door stood ajar halfway to the carnage. Peering in, Garrus saw what looked to have been a holding cell. The cell itself was abandoned. One of the glass panes had shattered and the steel mesh that had formerly supported the window was bowed in. A marine's crumpled form lay slumped beneath it.

Continuing along the corridor, Garrus swept his light back and forth, then brought it back to a wall alcove in time to see a figure leap at him from the darkness with a yell. The form shoved Garrus, causing him to stumble back, and the rest of the squad brought their weapons to bear.

"Hold your weapons!" shouted Chief Tyrol.

"Chief?" the figure asked, staring into the squad's weapon-mounted lights.

Garrus hurriedly brought his light back to the figure, a woman, her hands bound by metal restraints. There was something imminently familiar about her face. Garrus turned his light back to the dead humanoid Cylons and saw a woman who shared it.

Garrus then silently stared at the _Galactica's_ crew.

"What is the meaning of this?" Liara asked the _Galactica's _crew. As she fumbled for words her normally restrained tone gave way to anger, "You had a prisoner and didn't tell us? Why would you do this?"

Sergeant Fisher and Chief Tyrol stood silently.

"The decision wasn't made at their level," said Garrus, "I suggest we take the prisoner directly to Colonel Tigh. Then we will demand our answers."

"Agreed," said Lieutenant Alenko, who looked harshly at the _Galactica's _marines, "Sergeant Fischer, secure the prisoner, Chief Tyrol, lead us back to the CIC."

* * *

As the march toward the CIC began, Garrus fell back to walk beside the prisoner. He noted that she seemed alert, but didn't seem at all interested in escape or resisting her captivity.

_She must fear the Cylons more than us,_ Garrus realized.

"What's your name?" asked Garrus.

"It's a frakking Cylon," said Fischer, disdainfully, "it doesn't have a name."

"Your input is not required, sergeant," said Garrus curtly, then turned back to the prisoner, "What is your name?"

"Sharon," she said. Not bothering to turn and face Garrus.

"Do you know what is happening on this ship?"

"I can tell that the Cylons have boarded _Galactica,_" said Sharon, "and my being here is probably the only reason they haven't destroyed this ship already."

"Why is that?"

"Because I'm pregnant," said Sharon pointedly.

"Is this true?" Garrus asked Fischer.

"What do I know? I'm just a grunt," the marine replied angrily.

"But how can that be, you're a synthetic right?" asked Liara.

"Toasters having children," chuckled a marine, "whole galaxy has gone to hell."

"It's true," said Sharon, "Doctor Cottle has confirmed it. You can ask him, provided you can find him in this mess."

Suddenly the corridor lights flared, shining intensely for a moment before burning away and leaving the corridor in darkness. The lights, however, had stayed on long enough for Sharon to get a good luck at the non-humans questioning her, and she recoiled in shock.

"I had heard the guards murmuring about meeting new species," said Sharon after collecting herself, "now I can see I heard correctly."

"You don't want to return to the Cylons, do you?" asked Garrus, already confident that he knew the answer.

"No," said Sharon, resolutely.

"Then you'll help us defeat them?"

"What can I do?"

"The Cylons infected this ship with some sort of virus. Dr. Baltar called it a logic bomb. It's rendered almost every system on _Galactica_ inoperable."

Sharon gave a quick nob, "I might be able to help but there's something I need to tell you."

* * *

"New contacts on DRADIS," said Lieutenant Gaeta, who was now the _Galactica's_ acting XO, under acting CO Captain Lee Adama.

Lee looked up at the DRADIS monitor as he leaned heavily on the console. The new contacts were quickly identified as heavy raiders inbound from the functioning baseship.

Even with the advanced arms and armor provided by the Systems Alliance, continuous waves of centurions were quickly grounding down _Galactica's_ marines.

Lee had recently ordered all able personnel to the remaining barricades, deck and operations crews included. Other teams that still had free reign were searching for whatever device the Cylons were using to scramble in-ship communications. Power spikes and equipment failures continued to run rampant.

Everything was falling apart, but Lee was determined to not lose the _Galactica_ on his watch. Neither surrender nor retreat was an option.

Hearing footsteps coming down the corridor outside of the CIC, Lee looked to the doorway, expecting another of the runners they had been forced to rely on due to the communications blackout. Instead, he saw a nervous Chief Tyrol followed by Lieutenant Alenko and several marines then . . . Sharon.

Lee quickly drew his sidearm when he saw the eight and aimed for its head. Sharon stiffened but showed no fear, this had become a familiar situation for her.

"What is that thing doing outside of its cell?" asked Lee harshly.

Kaidan stepped forward, though not quite far enough to block Lee's shot.

"She said she might be able to help. I would think you people would want to question your hostage," said the lieutenant, "I wanted to speak with Colonel Tigh about this."

"Colonel Tigh is dead," said Lee, "so is Major Kelly. Which leaves me in command. One of those things put two bullets in my dad, there's no frakking way I'm going to trust this ship to it."

"That wasn't me," said Sharon, coolly, "I make my own choices. I don't know how many times I'm going to have to tell you that before you'll believe it."

"I doubt even a machine like you could count that high," said Lee.

"She doesn't want to return to the Cylons any more than you want your ship to be overrun by them," said Garrus.

"This is the old man's ship," said Lee, "I'm just trying to make sure it stays in one piece. Besides, these things are expert manipulators."

"Captain Adama," started Lietenant Gaeta, "In less than an hour we're going to lose all ship's functions. We have nothing to lose by at least letting her try."

"If you don't trust me that's fine," said Sharon, "but I don't think either of us wants to lose this ship to the Cylons. To prove that, I'm going to tell you that the Cylons brought a nuclear weapon onto the Galactica. They weren't going to use it until after they got me off the ship but once they realize I'm no longer their captive they just might accelerate their plan."

"Lieutenant Gaeta," started Lee, "have our instruments detected any nuclear weapons?"

"No sir," said Gaeta, "but if it's a lower yield weapon it may not register until its armed."

Lee hesitated for a moment but finally lowered his weapon, "Fine. You're getting this one chance. But I promise you, if you try to double-cross me, I'll put a bullet in your head myself."

"That won't happen," said Sharon, "but I need to see the code. Now."

"Up here," said Lieutenant Reid, who had scarcely taken his attention off the virus, "I'll get you up to speed."

Followed closely by Lieutenant Alenko and another marine, Sharon made her way up to the galley where Reid and the remaining engineers from the _Madrid_ had gathered.

A buzz coming from Lieutenant Gaeta's console caught Lee's attention.

"What was that?" the acting captain asked.

"One moment, let me confirm this," said Gaeta, his expression troubled, "instrumentation just picked up a nuclear activation . . . coming from inside this ship."

"Looks like Sharon wasn't lying," muttered one of the CIC's crew.

"Location?" demanded Captain Adama.

"It's somewhere in the starboard flight pod. I can't get any more precise than that."

"It's probably a trap," said Garrus.

"Would you mind explaining that?" asked Lee.

"The Cylons want your prisoner, otherwise they would have destroyed this ship already, and by now they probably know that we have her here in the CIC. By activating the nuclear weapon, they know we will have to divert marines from guarding the CIC. Thus clearing the way for them to secure their main objective."

"That might be true," admitted Lee, "but a nuke on my ship is something I can't ignore. I'm going."

"No," said Garrus, "let me go. This ship needs its captain."

After a long sigh, Lee nodded. "Okay, take Corporal Venner's detail. They've seen the most action out of everyone here."

* * *

Aboard a Cylon baseship far from the events transpiring on the _Galactica_, beyond even the Perseus Veil, seven human form Cylons, one representing each model, stood in the base ship's hub, with at least one of them having his or her hand submerged in the water of the command table at all times. Four and Six typically volunteered more than the others, as they were the most eager to hear the Geth reply to their offer.

Despite the enthusiasm displayed by Four and Six, it was Five who had his hand in the water when the Geth ships sent their reply. Nonetheless, all seven of the human form Cylons quickly had their hands submerged in the water once Five announced the message's arrival.

"They are unsure," said Eight, surprised.

"Or suspicious," said One, cynically.

"They're divided," said Six, "we need to allay their doubts."

"Listen," said Three, curtly, "they're already allied with another faction that promises to advance their cause."

"This faction is the source of their doubts," said Five

"And they want us to meet with this other faction," said Four.

"Led by one called Saren," said One.

"I move that we send a delegation to meet with this Saren," said Four.

"Agreed," replied each of the models.


	8. Chapter 8

"This is incredible, truly incredible," groaned One. "We come with overwhelming force, we destroy the _Galactica's_ escort, albeit not without suffering some setbacks, we inundate the _Galactica_ with wave after wave of centurions and yet total control over the ship still eludes us. Now, would someone with an intellect far surpassing my own please explain why we have not simply destroyed the _Galactica_?"

"We are holding out in case the centurions can recover Sharon and her child," said Six, her icy tone betraying how tired she had become of this particular line of conversation.

"Oh yes," chuckled One, "Sharon and her mystical child. Have none of you heard of the trouble that other Sharon, "Boomer," has been for us on Caprica since her resurrection? It seems to me that these Sharons are far too flawed to merit the attentions all of you have seen fit to lavish on them. So she is with child? What of it? This child can only be the inferior product of an inferior copy."

"Be careful what you say," said Eight.

"I said copy, not model," said One, "so there's no need to be so damned touchy."

"You can stop whining, One," said Three as she entered the conference room. "I've initiated a plan that should put the Eight in our hands."

"You mean _back_ in our hands right?" said One, "As I recall we her had just moments ago and then you managed to lose her." As One said the last part he was staring directly at the Eight.

Three continued, doing her best to ignore One, "My number on the Galactica has activated the nuclear weapon. Captain Adama should send most of his marines to deal with this new problem, opening the way for her to get to the bridge, secure Sharon and bring her back home."

"And then we can finally destroy the _Galactica_,_" _said One with a sigh.

"Yes," said Three. "There is a high likelihood that we will lose the nuke but we still have sufficient firepower on this baseship to destroy the Galactica once Sharon is returned to us."

"What?" snapped One, "A high likelihood? Don't our centurions outnumber the Colonials and their allies?"

"Of course," said Three, "but our centurions have proven far less effective in holding territory than they proved in taking it and arming a nuclear warhead is likely to draw a determined assault from the colonials."

"Then the centurions will have to be overhauled as well," observed Five.

"True," said Four, "but upgrading our raiders and baseships must take priority."

"We can deal with that later," said Six, before she turned back to Three, "please, keep us apprised."

* * *

Garrus pressed his ear against the bulkhead and, satisfied that the gunfire was coming immediately from the other side of the bulkhead door, moved back to take cover behind a pallet stacked with crates.

"Everyone take cover," said Garrus, "Private Jonas, prepare to open that door on my mark."

"What's on the other side of that door?" Garrus asked Corporal Venner as he waited for everyone to take their positions.

"A locker room," said Venner, as he thumbed one after another of his prayer beads.

Garrus nodded, and saw that everyone had taken their positions.

"Mark!"

Private Jonas cycled the door's wheel and pulled it open.

A centurion on the other side of the door raised one of its arm-mounted cannons to fire a volley through the opening but its head was quickly reduced to shrapnel by an armor-piercing round from Garrus' rifle.

Unable to see any other quarries, Garrus vaulted over his cover and moved into the room, hearing the sounds of motors and servos, Garrus whirled to the left to face a red-eyed centurion and opened fire in the same moment it did. While Garrus' shield absorbed the impact from the centurion's guns, the centurion had no defense against the round it took to the chest, and when it collapsed face-first onto the deck it revealed a gaping exit wound.

After examining his surroundings, Garrus saw no other centurions, only a collection of lockers the centurions had torn from the walls to create barricades of their own and the broken remains of several centurions Garrus knew he had not destroyed.

"Thanks for the assist."

Garrus turned to see a human in black Systems Alliance armor coming from a doorway at the far end of the locker room, and he was followed by several other men who were similarly armored. The man's natural gait meant that he was almost certainly a Systems Alliance marine.

"We had these centurions cornered. It was just a matter of time for them." The man leapt over the centurions' barricade and extended his hand, "Gunnery Chief Cyrano."

Garrus shook Chief Cyrano's hand, "Garrus Vackarian, what's the status of you and your people?"

"We're holding up just fine. There's nothing a little medi-gel and a kick back to the front lines can't cure. We've been on our own since communications went down so we've been doing some search and destroy."

Chief Cyrano looked to see the rest of Garrus' detail emerging from the corridor outside the locker room, "Corporal Venner, glad to see you made it back. What took you so long?"

"I'm afraid we don't have time for any more pleasantries," interrupted Garrus, "Galactica's sensors detected a nuclear activation in the starboard flight deck. We need to keep the Cylons from detonating that weapon."

"Alright," said Cyrano with a toothy grin, before he turned to his marines, "You heard the man, we've got some toasters to smash."

* * *

Lieutenant Kaidan was looking over Sharon's shoulder as she studied reports of the logic bomb that had infected Galactica's systems when a blood-splattered messenger wearing a Colonial pilot's uniform rushed into the CIC only to collapse by the DRADIS console. Kaidan descended from the galley to the DRADIS pit as Captain Lee Adama was helping the pilot to his feet.

Although the pilot was covered in blood, very little of it seemed to be his own.

"What happened to you?" asked Lee.

"The centurions were about to break through the barricade. Sergeant Malory sent me back here to make the report. The Cylons are attacking in force and their target is the CIC."

_Garrus warned me this would happen,_ thought Lee, and he wished he hadn't sent Corporal Venner's entire detail with the turian.

Lee spoke up to address the CIC, "Listen up, I need everyone who is not involved with fixing the virus or monitoring DRADIS to grab whatever weapons you can and report to the barricades immediately."

Lee turned to Kaidan, "Has the Cylon figured anything out yet?"

"She's still reading over the code," replied Kaidan.

"Then get it to read faster," said Lee.

Lee studied the faces of all the CIC crew leaving to man the barricade. They looked grim and hopeless. A brief glance at the DRADIS monitor, which was swarming with red blips, did nothing to alleviate the leaden weight that had settled on Captain Adama's shoulders.

When Lee looked away from the DRADIS monitor, he saw Dee moving along with the rest of the CIC crew out the door and quickly caught up with her.

"Petty Officer Dualla," said Lee, "I need you to stay at your post. If reinforcements show up we need to be able to communicate with them."

"With all due respect, sir," said Dee, "communications are completely shot and even if reinforcements come, I don't think they'll have a hard time figuring out what they have to do." Dee moved closer to Lee and spoke in a whisper, "The barricades need all the guns we can give them, sir."

Lee paused for a long moment before speaking, "I'll join you out there soon, Dee. Carry on."

After watching Dee leave, Lee hurried up to the galley to join the Cylon prisoner and Lieutenants Gaeta, Reid and Kaidan.

"You'd better have something," Lee addressed the prisoner.

"This is hopeless," stuttered Reid, "how is she supposed to figure out in minutes what we couldn't in hours?"

"I know what to do," said Sharon, and she tore her gaze from the code to look at Gaeta. "I need a direct link to the mainframe and communications routed through a fiber-optic comlink. You also need to prepare all hard drives for erasure."

Lieutenant Gaeta looked to Captain Adama for confirmation.

"Do whatever she says," said Lee, coldly. _She's the only option we have left._

* * *

After circumventing several compartments that had been exposed to vacuum, and thus rendered impassible. Garrus, Liara and their marine escort had finally found a door leading to the starboard flight deck.

"This door should open up on to the balcony," said Corporal Venner.

"Good," said Cyrano, "I like to rain fire from above. Now when this door opens, I want everyone to fan out. First we take control of the balcony, then we kill everything below us. Everyone got that?" Cyrano was promptly answered by a chorus of marines saying 'Yes chief!'

Liara found herself wondering if Cyrano's assumption of control bothered Garrus but didn't have long to ponder.

"Open it up, Corporal," ordered Cyrano as he readied his assault rifle.

The marines broke out from the door and fanned out along the balcony, just as Chief Cyrano had ordered, but they found no hostiles to kill.

"What the hell?" muttered Cyrano as he emerged onto the balcony. Peering over the balcony's edge, he still saw no centurions he could lay waste to.

What Cyrano and the others did see was a conspicuous device sitting on a service table at the center of the lower deck.

"This reeks of an ambush," Garrus muttered as he examined the situation.

"I'm inclined to agree," said Cyrano. "An ambush is a coward's tool," Cyrano grinned, "but when these toasters are going up against us it's hard as hell to blame them."

"What do you propose?" asked Garrus.

"Simple: spring their trap. Corporal Venner, guard the door. Garrus, I want you to cover us. Everyone else, with me."

Liara gave an uncertain glance to Garrus before following Cyrano and the other marines down to the lower deck. Once they had descended the ladders, the marines carefully approached the device on the service table. Liara nervously took in her surroundings, carefully noting the placement of all crates and pallets that could be used as cover, or as concealment.

Cyrano was only a few feet away from the device when it began to emanate a terrible, high-pitched noise. The marine felt as if daggers were piercing his ears and boring into his skull. Within moments, all of the humans and Liara were clutching at their ears in agony, trying to block out the sound.

Only Garrus remained unaffected, and a single round from his rifle quickly destroyed the offending device. But as the noise subsided the turian heard the metallic footfalls of numerous centurions.

Garrus turned around to see a disoriented Corporal Venner get backhanded by a centurion, and the impact sent Venner against the threshold of the door with enough force to knock him out. The same centurion was soon destroyed by Garrus' rifle. As the centurion fell, Garrus saw a tall, blond-haired woman with cold eyes behind it. Certain that this woman was a Cylon, Garrus fired again but the woman dodged his shot and the turian heard the alarm signaling that his weapon had overheated.

The Cylon darted toward Garrus, refusing to give his weapon its required cool-down time. Garrus swung in an attempt to hit the woman with the butt of his weapon but she ducked under the attack, came up inside his guard and struck Garrus in the abdomen with surprising strength that caused the turian to drop his weapon and stumble backward. Another punch that landed under his mandibles laid Garrus out on his back.

"It's a pity you weren't as strong as the other specimen," said the Cylon as she loomed over Garrus.

Seeing his rifle, Garrus quickly seized it and, jabbed the scalding hot barrel of the weapon into the Cylon's abdomen, which caused the woman to recoil with a pained shriek. Garrus' rifle clicked, signaling that it had cooled down. The Turian took aim and fired.

As he got back to his feet, Garrus saw that numerous centurions were assailing the marines on the lower deck, too many of whom hadn't survived the initial assault. The surviving marines had taken cover behind whatever they could.

* * *

Liara popped out of cover just long enough to take a few shots and only barely dropped back behind the crate before her shield gave out under the assault of the centurions' relentless barrage. In her brief glimpse, Liara had seen at least ten centurions, and there were certainly more of them behind those centurions.

"I think I can handle them," said Liara, so quietly that Cyrano, who shared her cover, only barely heard her.

"What do you mean?" he shouted in response, "there must be twenty of the damned things."

"I can handle them," said Liara, more resolutely this time, "but I'll need cover."

Cyrano looked skeptically at Liara, but he was clearly willing to try anything.

"Listen up marines," bellowed Cyrano, "suppressing fire in three, two . . ."

Cyrano and the other marines emerged from their cover and fired wildly. Liara stood and her figure became bathed with shimmering, iridescent, blue light.

The centurions turned from the marines to bear their fire on her but not soon enough. A blue orb appeared in the empty space above the centurions and they were quickly pulled upwards, circling it as they were pulled in closer and closer. Although the centurions writhed and struggled, they were powerless to break free while the marines stood awed by the display of power.

"Don't stare," shouted Cyrano, "perforate the damned things!"

At Cyrano's order, the marines opened fire, decimating the trapped centurions. Once they had all been destroyed, the orb disappeared and the dismembered metal components fell to the deck in a giant scrap heap. At the same moment, the blue light faded from Liara and she stumbled, but was caught by Cyrano, who set her down on the ground gently.

The exhausted asari drew in deep breaths to calm herself.

"Damned fine job," said Cyrano, as he surveyed the damage.

"Thank you," Liara managed, weakly.

"We need to get back to work," Cyrano turned to see that Garrus and a still-disoriented Corporal Venner had arrived on the lower deck. Garrus looked briefly at Liara, "Someone should stay with Liara while she recovers, the rest of us need to spread out and find the nuclear weapon. Quickly."

"You seem to be in a terrible hurry," said Cyrano, "is there something else I should know?"

"We are holding a Cylon prisoner at the CIC," said Garrus, "This prisoner seems to be the Cylon's main objective and the only reason they haven't destroyed this ship already. Thus we need to find the weapon and return to the CIC as quickly as possible."

* * *

Captain Adama clutched his pistol nervously on as he sat crouched behind the barricade next to the equally nervous Petty Officer Dualla.

"We'll be alright," said Lee, "we're ready for them."

"Would you please stop talking to yourself, sir," said Dee, "you're making me nervous."

Lee laughed humorlessly, but his laughter was cut short when distant gunfire drew closer. The rapidly encroaching gunfire was soon joined by the sounds of footsteps and in seconds marines and other personnel in bloodstained uniforms were running toward the barricade, some of whom supported wounded.

_Then the last barricade has fallen,_ thought Lee.

"Make a hole," shouted Captain Adama as he moved aside, allowing the incoming survivors to cross over the barricade and helping those who brought wounded.

"Anyone with a weapon can stay out here," shouted Lee, "If you do not have a weapon get into the CIC!"

"Centurions!" shouted one of the men on the barricade.

The centurions ruthlessly opened fire on the stragglers who had yet to cross over the barricade. Without the benefit of Systems Alliance armors, these stragglers were quickly wiped out.

While the defenders returned fire on the steadily advancing centurions, they were reduced to using Colonial weapons, which could only destroy the seven-foot-tall monstrosities with well-placed or lucky shots.

* * *

"All hard drives are prepped for erasure," announced Lieutenant Reid.

At the same time Lieutenant Gaeta pressed the fiber-optic microphone into Sharon's hand. "Access to both the mainframe and communications have been routed into this mike," said Gaeta.

"Good," said Sharon, who then bit her lower lip. "I need a knife."

An injured marine quickly volunteered his combat knife.

"I wish I could have gotten Dee's pocket knife instead," muttered Sharon as she nervously eyed the combat knife's massive blade.

After taking a deep breath, Sharon cut the head off the microphone, revealing a sparking fiber-optic thread, then took another breath and used the knife to make an incision into her wrist.

While the CIC's remaining crew winced, Sharon slid the fiber-optic cable into the incision. Sharon's eyes rolled into the back of her head as blood seeped from the incision, causing Kaidan to wonder if she might lose consciousness.

At that moment Lee burst into the CIC and stalked toward where Sharon stood; his flightsuit was stained with the blood of his shipmates.

"If you are going to do _anything,_ you had better do it now," warned Lee, as he trembled with rage and held his sidearm with a white-knuckled grip.

If Sharon had noticed Lee, she didn't show it, "Erase the hard drives. Now!"

Gaeta and Lieutenant Reid's engineers quickly carried out the order and the CIC went completely dark before red emergency lights flickered on.

"Frakking toaster," muttered Lee as he brought his sidearm to bear on Sharon.

Kaidan moved to stand between Lee and Sharon. "Captain Adama, please," said Kaidan, "she's trying to help."

"What! She's trying to help?" shouted Lee, "how many of us has that thing let die?"

The CIC's lights suddenly returned and stayed on, blinding the crew for a moment. More importantly, gunfire no longer reverberated throughout the _Galactica_.

Lee slowly lowered his sidearm.

"All systems read nominal," said Lieutenant Gaeta. He sounded confused after reporting the next part: "DRADIS reports that all Cylon contacts are adrift. We must have sent the virus back to them."

"That Cylon logic bomb must have felt right at home in Cylon computers to have turned them all off like lights," muttered Lieutenant Reid.

Sharon pulled the fiber-optic cable from her wrist and sat down on the steps leading toward the DRADIS pit. Then she met Lee's stare and answered his question coldly: "I haven't let anyone die. Colonel Tigh and Commander Adama did that when they decided not to ask for my help." Sharon shook her head, "None of this should have happened."


End file.
